
WHEN I WAS A GIRL 
IN BAVARIA 












BERTHA TAUBER HARPER 


sis’ 






































WHEN I WAS A GIRL 
IN BAVARIA 


CHILDREN OF OTHER LANDS BOOKS 

Independent Volumes With Characteristic Illustrations 
and Cover Designs. 12 mo Cloth 

There are many books about the children, of other countries, 
but no other group like this, with each volume written by one 
who has lived the foreign child life described, and learned 
from subsequent experience in this country how to tell it in 
a way attractive to American children—and in fact to Ameri¬ 
cans of any age. 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN CHINA, By Yan Phou Lee 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN ITALY, By Marietta Ambrosi 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN JAPAN, By Sakae Shioya 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN GREECE, By George Demetrlos 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN PALESTINE, By Mousa J. Kaleel 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM, By Robert Jonckheere 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN RUSSIA, By Vladimir Mokrievitch 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN ROUMANIA, By Dr. J. S. Van Teslaar 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN HOLLAND, By Cornelia De Groot 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN MEXICO, By Mercedes Godoy 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN ICELAND, By Holmfridur Arnadottir 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN PERSIA, By Youel B. Mirza 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN SCOTLAND, By George McP. Hunter 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN NORWAY, By John 0. Hall 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN SWITZERLAND, By S. Louise Patteson 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN DENMARK, By H. Trolle-Steenstrup 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN INDIA, By Satyananda Roy 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN TURKEY, By Ahmed Sabri Bey 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN FRANCE, By Georgette Beuret 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN ARMENIA, By Manoog Der Alexanian 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN SWEDEN, By Anna-Mia Hertzman 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA, By llhan New 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN HUNGARY, By Elizabeth Pongracz Jacobi 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN ENGLAND, By Ivan G. Grimshaw 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN BAVARIA, By Bertha Tauber Harper 


LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
BOSTON 






Bertha Tauber Harper 








WHEN I WAS A GIRL 
IN BAVARIA 


By 

v BERTHA TAUBER HARPER « 

Introduction by 
WILHELMINA HARPER i 


ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 



, » > 
, ) 

» ) 1 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD GO. 

y 












PP80I 
,B 3 47H3 


Copyright, 1932, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
All Rights Reserved 
When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 


Printed in U. S. A. 


APR 19 m?J 




INTRODUCTION 


Among my earliest childhood recollec¬ 
tions there is a vivid picture of my mother 
— a brown-eyed, rosy-cheeked young 
woman—telling her five small children 
stories of a beautiful city in a land far 
away. How these stories thrilled us! We 
never tired of hearing them. 

Her love and longing for her native 
country, which she left at the age of 
twenty-two as the bride of a beloved 
American educator, remained with her al¬ 
ways. She told us wonderful tales of the 
beautiful city of Munich, of its artists and 
musicians, of its royal family, of her 
happy childhood days and her lovely com¬ 
radeship with her father, and of the excit¬ 
ing events of later life, when, as a young 

5 


6 


Introduction 


girl of seventeen, she witnessed the Battle 
of Sedan and played a part in the German 
victory. 

Then followed the new and strange life 
in America, which was indeed novel to her 
in every way. But in all situations she 
was ever heroic and cheerful, giving her 
whole life to others. Now, at the age of 
seventy-nine, she can look back upon 
many eventful years when she accepted 
alike their joys and sorrows. 

And now her grandchildren, hearing the 
same absorbingly interesting stories from 
her lips, have urged her to put them into 
writing. Having in earlier years, before 
her widowhood, done considerable literary 
work, with feature articles in numerous 
periodicals, the task has not seemed diffi¬ 
cult even at her present advanced age. 

She has here depicted city and country 
life of picturesque and romantic Bavaria, 
which, up to 1918, was an independent 
kingdom, forming the southern part of 


Introduction 


,7 


the German Empire. A native of Mu¬ 
nich, its splendid capital, she witnessed the 
steady march of progress, and lived a 
happy, wholesome childhood, though with¬ 
out the many conveniences which have 
since become necessities. 

She vividly remembers the unusual 
events of the fifties and sixties. She de¬ 
scribes them in a pleasing way, taking us 
through the unique city of old Munich, 
and through other ancient and far-famed 
towns, into the Bavarian Alps, and to 
some of the fairy castles of King Ludwig. 
She acquaints us with the sturdy, open- 
hearted, and friendly villagers, and with 
the pious inhabitants of Oberammergau. 

As the daughter of a Munich artist, she 
met and mingled with many noted people, 
and she recalls her encounter with the 
King in the Royal Palace as clearly as 
when it occurred some seventy-five years 
ago. 

She now passes on to other children this 


8 


Introduction 


story of her childhood in lovely Bavaria, 
which her own children and grandchildren 
have never grown weary of hearing. 

WlLHELMINA HARPER. 


CONTENTS 


I. An Ancient City and an An- 



cient Kingdom 

IB 

II. 

Earliest Recollections . 

32 

III. 

Encountering the King . 

39 

IV. 

Playmates .... 

50 

y. 

Christmas and Other Holidays 
in Bavaria .... 

62 

VI. 

School-days .... 

74 

VII. 

In the Poet’s Home . 

86 

VIII. 

Simple Life and Simple Pleas¬ 
ures ..... 

95 

IX. 

• 

High School .... 

100 

X. 

A Poor Rich Girl 

109 

XI. 

Home Sketches 

114 

XII. 

Rural Bavaria .... 

122 

Kill. 

Oberammergau and Other 
Towns ..... 

133 

XIV. 

Wings ..... 

140 


9 





/ 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Bertha Tauber Harper . 

• 

Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

King Ludwig II 

• 

• • 

24 

Herr and Frau Tauber . 

• 

• • 

32 

King Maximilian II and Queen Mark 

40 

The Royal Residence of Maximilian 

44 

An Old City Gate at Munich 

• 

• • 

48 

Munich, the Isar River, and the 

Alps 

64 

Dr. Hermann von Lingg 


• • 

88 

A Scene on the Isar 


• • 

96 

The Opera House at Munich 


• • 

116 

The Propylaen 


• • 

118 

Bavarian Peasant Costumes 


• • 

124 

A Crossroad Shrine 


• • 

128 

The Schloss Neuschwanstein 

Scene from Passion Play 

at 

• • 

Oberam- 

132 

mergau 

• 

• • 

136 

In Old Nuremberg 

• 

• • 

144 


11 










When I Was a Girl 

in Bavaria 

CHAPTER I 

AN ANCIENT CITY AND AN ANCIENT 

KINGDOM 

My native city was Munich, the capital 
of Bavaria. American tourists have 
called it “ the City of Friendship ” be¬ 
cause of its friendly atmosphere and its 
cordial inhabitants. The Bavarians call it 
“ the Isar Athens ” from that lively, tur¬ 
bulent mountain stream, the Isar, which, 
gushing forth from the Alps, rushes right 
through the city, and because of the beau¬ 
tiful Greek architecture with which the 
kings of Bavaria embellished this far- 
famed city. 

Munich, since I was a little girl there, 

13 


14 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

has become a center of art and music. She 
attracts students from all over the world 
to her great art treasures, her art acade¬ 
mies, conservatories of music, medical 
schools, and great museums. Munich has 
also one of the largest and best-attended 
universities. Her beautiful streets and 
parks, the numerous monuments and 
fountains scattered all over the city, and 
a certain Gemuthlichkeit, for which there 
is no equivalent word in other languages, 
but which means an air of welcome and 
cordiality, make it a place where visitors 
usually love to linger longer than they had 
intended. 

The city was founded in 1158 bjr monks. 
The name Muenchen was derived from the 
word Monch (monk). It was later called 
“ Monaco ” by the invading Romans. 
The age-blackened cathedral, the famous 
Frauenkirche, is a silent testimony to 
Munich’s great antiquity, for it was com¬ 
pleted four years before America was dis- 


An Ancient City and Kingdom 15 

covered. Its rounded towers can be seen 
afar from every direction. 

These towers and a gigantic bronze arm 
holding a laurel wreath are the first indi¬ 
cations to the traveler that he is approach¬ 
ing Munich. The arm with the wreath, 
which is usually inhabited by numerous 
sparrow families, belongs to the colossal 
bronze statue of the Bavaria, one of the 
largest monuments in the world. My 
father was present when it was erected in 
sections, and he once counted twenty-eight 
men and two boys crawling out of the 
Bavaria’s head. A huge lion, the emblem 
of Bavaria, sits majestically at her side. 
One can go into the interior of the statue, 
up some sixty-five steps, and into the 
head, from which he can obtain a magnifi¬ 
cent panorama of the city, the wooded 
Isar Valley, and the snow-capped Alps. 

Bavaria, which is in the southern part 
of Germany, took its name, so the legend 
tells us, from an enterprising young trav- 


16 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

eler by the name of Baioarius, who wan¬ 
dered westward from Armenia with a 
crowd of followers, and found a land that 
was fertile and good to behold, and a 
peaceful people who cultivated the soil 
and lived on fish and game. These new 
arrivals established themselves in this 

promised land and called it Boiaria after 

• 

their leader. And it has been the garden 
spot of Europe ever since. 

In 955, the Huns, a savage tribe of 
Hungarians who lived farther down the 
Danube, broke into Bavaria and ravaged 
the little country from east to west. They 
were finally driven back, but Bavaria was 
in constant danger of invasion by her 
neighbors, particularly by the Austrians 
and the Huns. This aroused the bellig¬ 
erent spirit of the people. They became 
great fighters, and to this day they are 
known for their courage, their daring, and 
their endurance. 

The conflicts with invading tribes lasted 


An Ancient City and Kingdom 17 

for centuries. This caused the Bavarians 
to erect walls and moats around their little 
settlements and to build their small houses 
close together for protection. This is why, 
to-day, the traveler finds the little Bava¬ 
rian country towns with their stone houses 
and narrow streets so closely packed that, 
from a distance, they have the aspect of 
toy villages. 

Munich might never have been the 
beautiful and far-famed capital city of 
Bavaria, had it not been for an elector who 

y' 

occupied a settlement farther up the river 
Isar, called Foehring, and who got into a 
dispute with Grand Duke Henry about 
the tolls for the salt transport. The salt 
then came from the big salt mines at 
Reichenhall, a small town in the Bavarian 
Alps. To avoid further trouble with the 
Grand Duke, the elector destroyed the 
little marketplace, Foehring, and moved 
to the small village which belonged to the 
monks. That was in 1157. 


18 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

The elector’s name was Otto von Wit- 
telsbach. Later, the dynasty of the 
Bavarian princes took the name of Wit- 
telsbach, and for nearly seven hundred 
years they reigned over the little country 
of Bavaria. 

In 1796 Napoleon Bonaparte dis¬ 
patched a powerful army to devastate 
Bavaria and to take possession of Munich. 
But in 1800 Bavaria became an ally of 
France and was made into a kingdom. 

The first king of the House of Wittels- 
bach was Maximilian Joseph I. He was 
much beloved, for he was a most cordial, 
unpretentious monarch, who loved to 
mingle with the people. It is said of him 
that on one occasion he showed himself at 
the annual Volksfest in Munich, which 
was, and is to this day, held every October 
on a great meadow, called Die October 
Wiese . He is described as appearing in 
a simple Napoleonic coat, gray tight- 
fitting breeches, and high boots. A pair 


An Ancient City and Kingdom 19 

of large gold earrings dangled from his 
ears. Thus the portly monarch mean¬ 
dered leisurely from booth to booth, now 
and then slapping some elderly gentleman 
on the shoulder and exchanging drinks 
with him. 

A citizen of Munich stepped out of the 
crowd. He approached the king, famil¬ 
iarly tapped him on the shoulder, and 
offered him a drink out of his stein, say¬ 
ing: “ Ah, Maxi, we are so glad thou art 
with us to-day! ” The king laughed good- 
naturedly and drank the foaming bever¬ 
age out of the fellow’s mug. 

His wife, Queen Karoline, a Hessian 
princess, was as much beloved. She de¬ 
voted herself exclusively to the education 
of their son, Ludwig I, and to her domes¬ 
tic duties. (I may mention here that my 
grandmother on my father’s side, who was 
a von Johler, was, in her young days, 
lady-in-waiting to this queen. Through 
her, many royal souvenirs, such as table 


20 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

linen once used at the roj^al table in the 
early eighties, have come down to me and 
are yet among my treasured possessions.) 

This Crown Prince Ludwig showed, at 
an early age, his great love for art treas¬ 
ures and beautiful architecture. When he 
was twenty-four years old, he sketched the 
plans for an ideal art museum, the Glyp- 
tothek, which now contains some of the 
most famous sculptures of ancient Greece 
and Rome, and which is one of the chief 
attractions of Munich. It was also this 
beauty-loving Ludwig who erected the 
magnificent Propylaen and the Art Exhi¬ 
bition buildings, all on the same vast and 
imposing plaza. Then were built the two 
Pinakotheks , whose priceless paintings of 
old and new masters are visited by thou¬ 
sands every year. The II of theater, the 
Royal Theater, a most beautiful and dig¬ 
nified building, adorns a large square and 
adjoins the royal palace. This large 
palace was built near the end of the six- 


An Ancient City and Kingdom 21 

teenth century. Until 1918 it was the 
home of the Wittelsbachs, but now it is a 
museum, open to the public for a small 
admission fee. Throngs of sight-seers 
now marvel at its magnificent rooms, at 
the rare paintings on the walls of its gal¬ 
leries, and at the huge and exquisitely exe¬ 
cuted tapestries, depicting scenes from 
Bavarian and old German history, and 
worked, for the most part, by former prin¬ 
cesses. One is overawed by the splendor 
and wealth of the many rooms, by the 
gilded furniture, the heavy damask dra¬ 
peries, the allegoric paintings on the ceil¬ 
ings, the marble statuary on all sides, the 
many gold and silver chandeliers, .and by 
the mirror room, where one meets oneself 
in every direction. 

Yet, as we view the royal bedchambers 
with their heavy gilded furniture, we 
wonder how the princes of former days 
performed their ablutions. with only a 
wash-bowl and a pitcher, and we think 


22 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

gratefully of our modern conveniences, 
and would not exchange them for all the 
magnificence of royal dwellings. 

This royal palace has six courtyards, 
with gardens, fountains, grottoes, and 
statuary. In one of these squares there is 
a large monument to Otto von Wittels- 
bach, surrounded by mythological figures. 

One becomes weary of beholding so 
much splendor. Emerging from the royal 
palace, one gladly turns into a quiet street 
with its rows of ornamental trees and 
shrubs and its islands of flowers and stat¬ 
uary. Americans are surprised to see 
their native corn plants used as orna¬ 
mental shrubs around the statues on 
Munich’s boulevards. But these corn 
plants never reach a stage of maturity 
there, as the nights are too cold. To the 
citizens of Mmiich they look tropical. 

One can go very few blocks in Munich 
without coming upon some noble piece of 
architecture, the creation of that beauty- 


An Ancient City and Kingdom 23 

loving mind of Ludwig I. Even the orna¬ 
mental stone bridges across the Isar are 
surmounted by Greek statues. On the 
other side of the river, facing one of the 
finest bridges, stretches a long imposing 
building with rows and rows of arcs. This 
is the Maximilianeum, formerly a school 
for training pages, but now used for other 
educational purposes. Books could be de¬ 
voted to a description of all the beautiful 
edifices with which this king embellished 
Munich, making it one of the proudest 
cities in Europe. 

Though the people were appreciative of 
his untiring ambitions, they nevertheless 
forced him to abdicate. The Bavarians 
are by nature straightforward, honest, 
conscientious, and law-abiding, but intol¬ 
erant in matters of wrongdoing, and un¬ 
hesitating in meting out punishment. For 
instance, to this day they uphold the cus¬ 
tom of taking justice into their own hands 
in small villages, whenever a criminal act 


24 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

has been committed. On a still night, a 
horde of villagers, equipped with tin pans 
and every possible noise-making instru¬ 
ment, will assemble before the culprit’s 
house and will make a terrific din until he 
appears at his door. He must then listen 
to a loudly read recital of his misdoings 
and must promise to reform, or he will be 
driven out of the village. He usually re¬ 
forms. They call this mode of punishment 
Haberfeldtreiben. 

King Ludwig fared no better. His sub¬ 
jects disapproved of his friendship with 
the Spanish dancer, Lola Montez. They 
first gave him warning by jeering him on 
the streets whenever he showed himself. 
Then, one morning, a mass of angry peo¬ 
ple assembled in front of the royal resi¬ 
dence, called loudly for his appearance, 
and threw stones into the large windows 
of the palace. They kept up this demon¬ 
stration until he appeared on a balcony. 
Loudly and earnestly he was requested to 



King Ludwig II 

Called ‘ ‘The Mad King, ’ ’ because of his desire to build large, 

elaborate palaces. 


■■ 




An Ancient City and Kingdom 25 

abdicate right then and there, in favor of 
his son Maximilian II. He did abdicate. 
That was in 1848. (My mother, a young 
girl then, was in the crowd and witnessed 
the proceedings. She picked up one of 
the pieces of window glass and kept it as 
a souvenir. It was fully an inch thick.) 

Maximilian II thus ascended the 
throne. He was a studious man, and said 
of himself: “ Were I not born to a royal 
cradle, I would much rather be a professor 
than a king.” He was very plain and of 
simple habits. He and his wife, Queen 
Maria, believed in bringing up their un¬ 
usually handsome children, Ludwig and 
Otto, in strict discipline. The young 
princes were never allowed sweetmeats, 
nor were they permitted to keep late 
hours. For pocket money they were given 
the equivalent of ten cents a week. A de¬ 
voted nursery maid occasionally brought 
them candy on the sly. 

Crown Prince Ludwig showed, early in 


26 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

life, his great love for music, poetry, and 
solitude. He was an idealist, a dreamer. 
He was barely twenty years old when his 
father, Maximilian II, died, and Ludwig 
had to ascend the Bavarian throne. He 
showed little inclination to assume the 
responsibilities of a king. He would 
rather roam about in the mountains or lis¬ 
ten to beautiful music than attend to the 
affairs of state, which bored him. He sel¬ 
dom showed himself to the public, to the 
great disappointment of his people, who 
appreciated his personal charm and his 
goodness of heart. In order not to show 
himself at the opera, he often waited until 
the performance was over and then had 
the whole opera repeated to him alone, a 
solitary figure in the king’s loge. But he 
always rewarded the singers most liber¬ 
ally for their extra trouble. 

He was known to be very lavish in 
bestowing gifts, especially at Christmas 
time, to any needy persons he happened to 


An Ancient City and Kingdom 27 

hear of, and in helping struggling artists 
and musicians. He was the great pro¬ 
moter of Richard Wagner, whom he en¬ 
abled, through generous contributions, to 
carry out his loftiest plans in creating his 
masterpieces— Lohengrin, Tannhauser, 
Parsifal , and Die Meistersinger. 

Ludwig had wonderful ideas of beauty 
and harmony and gave them shape by 
erecting the most enchanting castles, of 
which we shall speak later. In 1886 he 
came to a very tragic end by drowning. 
How it happened will ever be a mystery. 

His natural successor, his brother Otto, 
had become an incurable mental invalid, 
so the Bavarian regency went to the next 
of kin, their uncle Luitpold. But Bavaria 
had ceased, since 1871, to be an indepen¬ 
dent kingdom. 

It was this same Ludwig II who, at the 
close of the Franco-Prussian war, had 
proposed that there should be one united 
Germany and that the little separate king- 


28 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

doms should be a part of the German 
Empire. 

The Munich of to-day is a great center 
of attraction during the months of July 
and August, when the Music Festivals 
take place. The city is then alive with 
thousands of tourists from all over the 
world, who come to hear the grand operas, 
especially those of Wagner given in the 
spacious Regenten Theater, which was 
built for these occasions. An air of good 
cheer prevails all over the city. Every¬ 
body seems to feel at home among the 
good-natured inhabitants with their keen 
sense of humor, their Gemuthlichkeit, and 
their lack of mercenary spirit. 

After the opera nearly all present go 
to the famous Hofhrauhaus (the royal 
brewery) to refresh themselves with the 
renowned Munich beer. And there the 
most democratic spirit prevails. No class 
distinction is known. The professor or 
the diplomat sits next to the laborer or the 


An Ancient City and Kingdom 29 

chimney sweep. Everybody is friendly to 
his neighbor. When there is no more room 
in the vast hall, people sit outdoors around 
beer barrels as best they can, and laugh 
and chat as if they were old acquaintances. 
Waitresses in neat peasant costume hurry 
around to fill empty steins. Old women 
peddle radishes. Everything is cheerful 
and orderly. No disturbances take place 
among these mixed crowds, no inebriate is 
seen. The Munich beverage is known to 
be unadulterated and harmless. 

Strangers who chance to be in the 
neighborhood of the “ Marienplatz,” the 
great square in which stands the City 
Hall, around eleven o’clock in the morn¬ 
ing will wonder why all traffic is blocked, 
why thousands of eager faces are turned 
upward, watching the tower of the Rath- 
haus. 

Presently the door of the big clock 
opens. Two figures representing old-time 
coopers emerge and announce the hour of 


30 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

eleven by striking their hammers upon 
barrels. Then come forth in solemn pro¬ 
cession the twelve apostles, one after an¬ 
other. They make their rounds and 
disappear into the clock house. 

A lower door now opens and out comes 
a jolly crowd of coopers, dancing merrily 
and swinging garlands of flowers. They, 
too, disappear into the interior of the clock 
house. And while gay music is playing, 
a clown with horned cap and sharply 
pointed shoes dances in front of the clock 
and makes grimaces at the crowd below. 

To produce this marvelous mechanism 
required seven years of work on the part 
of skillful sculptors and master mechanics. 
No visitor to Munich should miss this 
extraordinary spectacle. 

Nor should he depart without seeing 
the Deutsche Museum, which is on an 
island in the Isar. If one were to cover 
the space within this museum, which 
houses one of the most wonderful collec- 


An Ancient City and Kingdom 31 

tions of man’s products that has ever been 
assembled, one would have to walk nine 
miles. There one can see everything, from 
the first crude efforts of humans to make 
themselves a home in caves, to the most 
modern of conveniences. One can see, in 
the Planetarium, how the universe re¬ 
volves. Each department has skilled in¬ 
structors to explain the workings and the 
significance of its displays. Of course, it 
would take weeks to see all that the great 
museum contains. 

Several of the ancient city gates and 
sections of old walls that were built as far 
back as 1300 a. d. remain standing as land¬ 
marks of Munich’s past. But little white 
and blue trolleys now run through these 
gates, behind which, in hoary ages, ar¬ 
mored warriors stood ready to ward off 
the invader with formidable lances and 
huge rocks. 


/ 


CHAPTER II 

EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS 

My very earliest recollections and im¬ 
pressions date back to my third year, and 
they are still as vivid in my mind as are 
the events of yesterday. 

My mother once had to leave me with 
friends when she was called to the sick bed 
of her father, who lived in Landshut, an¬ 
other city on the Isar. There was a creek 
flowing past the house where I had my 
temporary quarters, and I amused myself 
picking forget-me-nots at the water’s 
edge.* One day I saw some boys roll up 
their trousers and wade into the creek. 
Such fun they seemed to be having. Off 
came my shoes and stockings. I, too, 
rolled up my white pantalets and marched 
forth into the creek. But soon the water 

32 




Herr and Frau Tauber 
Parents of the author. 









Earliest Recollections 


38 


came up to my chin. I felt myself floun¬ 
dering about, and I would have lost my 
balance, had not a young girl jumped in 
. and pulled me out. I distinctly remember 
her crown of very red hair and her fright¬ 
ened face. 

Another time, the women who took care 
of me tried to compel me to eat a certain 
soup which I did not like. The more they 
insisted, the more I rebelled. And 

% 

although the Dampfnudeln (steamed rolls 
containing spices and raisins), which were 
a favorite dish of mine, were withheld 
from me until I should eat the soup, I 
would not touch it. Finally I put both 
hands in the plate and sprinkled my hair 
with the soup. I was made to sit a long 
time on a low stool in a dark corner and 
to go dinnerless, but I was not converted 
to the detested soup. I never forgot the 
incident, and never throughout my long 
life have I liked that soup. 

Another strong impression of this earli- 


34 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

est childhood remains with me. Once I 
was sent to bed early for having been 
naughty. I lay awake in my crib, and was 
suddenly startled by a glaring flash of 
light and a sizzling sound passing right by 
my window. It frightened me greatly, 
but I did not dare cry out because I 
thought the apparition was some heavenly 
visitor wishing to give me a warning. I 
later learned that the fiery messenger was 
one of the large meteors which fell in that 
neighborhood in 1855. 

What queer fancies and conceptions lit¬ 
tle children have, especially when their 
imaginations have been stimulated by 
weird pictures and tales. Once, when I 
was four years old, I heard some servant 
girls talking about the “ poor souls of 
purgatory.” I wondered what they looked 
like, and fancied that if they were poor, 
they must look starved and slim. One 
day, while I w r as playing in the yard, a 
division of cavalry rode by. The riders 


Earliest Recollections 35 

seemed very tall and slim in their tight, 
dark uniforms. I had never seen them be¬ 
fore and imagined that they must be the 
“ poor souls of purgatory ” and that they 
were hungry. I ran into the house, got a 
large piece of bread, and rushed out into 
the yard as fast as my little legs would 
permit. Crumbing the bread into bits, I 
threw it among the riders and horses, feel¬ 
ing that I had done a good deed because 
I had fed the 44 poor souls of purgatory.” 

Occasionally I was taken to spend a day 
with my little cousins, who were my own 
age. They lived in a very old part of the 
city, near the 44 Sendlinger Thor,” one of 
the ancient city gates, which is still 
standing. 

I really did not like to go there, for the 
place looked so gloomy, with age-black¬ 
ened walls on either side of the gate cast¬ 
ing dark shadows all over the neighbor¬ 
hood. There was no place for children to 
play on the street, nor in the little cobbled 


36 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

yards between the old gray stone houses 
that were built so close together. The 
only playground was a long deep ditch 
outside the walls, which, centuries ago, 
was a moat filled with water to keep out 
the enemy. But at this time it was over¬ 
grown with grass and weeds and wild 
flowers. We used to scramble down and 
climb up again, and see who could roll 
down the fastest. It seemed to be our 
only sport. 

One day several goats came to join us. 
We were afraid of them and began to run. 
The goats scampered after us. One great 
billy goat with a long beard and for¬ 
midable black horns seemed to have 
wicked intentions, and bounded and ca¬ 
pered around us. It did not take us long 
to clamber out of the ditch and run for 
shelter. 

Screaming, we made for the first open 
door we could see, which was that of the . 
old St. John’s Church, which had been 


Earliest Recollections 87 

standing for hundreds of years. We ran 
in and hid behind one of the side altars. 
But the goat followed us, its hoofs making 
a loud clatter on the stone floor of the 
little church. Fortunately, the sexton, 
who must have been near, had seen our 
predicament. It did not take him long to 
dispose of all the intruders, quadruped 
and otherwise. 

While hiding in the shelter of the little 
altar, I was impressed by a row of fat, 
pouch-cheeked golden angels riding on 
massive silver clouds along the opposite 
wall. I can still remember how I thought 
that I would never want to be an angel 
with such bulging cheeks and stomach. 
But those medieval angels are still one of 
the curiosities of the ancient city, as is the 
great wealth of gold and silver that is 
lavished on the decorations of little old St. 
John’s Church. 

A figure that was often encountered on 
the streets, and that always filled us little 


38 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

tots with awe, was the chimney sweep. He 
was tall and slim, and wore a tight-fitting 
suit. He was covered with soot from head 
to foot. He carried a long black ladder, 
from which dangled a black iron ball and 
a black broom, such as the witches in our 
picture books were portrayed with. From 
underneath his tall stovepipe hat the 
whites of his ej^es gleamed uncannily in 
his coal-black face. Indeed, he represented 
to us children all the bugaboos we had 
ever heard of, and at sight of him we scur¬ 
ried to the nearest hiding-place as fast as 
we could. 


CHAPTER III 


ENCOUNTERING THE KING 

When I was five years old, I lived op¬ 
posite the Botanical Garden and close to 
one of the public school buildings. I used 
to watch the boys and girls pour forth 
twice a day from the big portals of the 
large schoolhouse. I longed for the time 
when I should be one of them, for during 
school hours the whole neighborhood 
seemed deserted and lonely, since I was an 
only child and had no playmates. I 
amused myself by looking longingly 
through the iron gate of the Botanical 
Garden, which, to me, was forbidden 
ground. One of the guards, who had 
sometimes noticed me and spoken to me, 
allowed me to slip through the gate and 
to play in a shady corner, but I was not to 

89 


40 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

pick flowers nor to wander farther. This 
cherished little spot directly behind the 
huge palace of glass became my daily 
paradise. I was perfectly happy there. I 
built imaginary castles out of sticks and 
leaves. I talked to the beetles and lizards 
which darted and crawled in and out of 
the greenery, and I imagined they knew 
the names I gave them. I was lonely, but 
happy. 

One dark day when Mother had not 
allowed me to go into the Garden because 
it was too damp, I sat on the steps in front 
of our house as usual, waiting for the 
school children to come out. But it must 
have been a holiday, for I waited and 
waited, and not a sound came from the 
schoolhouse. I must have felt especially 
lonely, for, without consulting Mother, I 
suddenly made up my mind to visit 
Father, who, I knew, was painting the 
King’s portrait in an upper story of the 
royal residence. Father had taken me 





- 


■ 


■ 


■ 


















* 


-'... 


R 


m 




JRRi} 


mss 




w/em 




mm 


■. 




- 






At whose residence the author was escorted to her father by the king. 








Encountering the King 41 

there on one or two occasions, so I knew 
the way. 

I resolutely started out, bareheaded and 
tousled and probably not overclean. It 
was a distance of nearly a mile, along quiet 
Louisenstrasse, then across a large plaza 
with fountains and monuments, and 
through an ancient portal—a relic of the 
days when Munich was a fortified city. 
This led into a lively, crowded business 
street. I squirmed my way through, un¬ 
concerned and unnoticed, until I reached 
the wide plaza with the great equestrian 
statue, the royal Opera House on one side, 
and my destination, the King’s Palace, on 
the other. 

The Palace occupied a whole square, 
with a courtyard in the center. I knew 
the building well, and slipped unnoticed 
by the sentries who were stationed at each 
entrance. But I must have wandered into 
the wrong wing of the square building, for 
as I reached a wide marble staircase, 



42 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

everything seemed very strange in the big 
white silence, and I began to cry. The 
echo of my cries seemed to rebound from 
every corner, and I was thoroughly fright¬ 
ened. Presently one of the many white 
and gilded doors opened, and a tall gentle¬ 
man in gray came out and asked me what 
I wanted. 

“ I want my papa! ” I sobbed. 

“Who is your papa? ” he asked in a 
gentle, soothing voice. 

“ Herr Tauber,” I told him, with a 
finger in my mouth. My parent’s name 
and address had been firmly impressed 
upon me, after former solitary expeditions 
which I had occasionally undertaken. 

“ Come, I will take you to your papa,” 
the gentleman in gray assured me, taking 
my dirty hand. 

Through a long corridor he led me, then 
around a corner and up some stairs. 
When he saw that I had difficulty in fol¬ 
lowing his long strides, he lifted me over 


43 


Encountering the King 

several steps at a time. Then we came to 
another long corridor, which seemed to be 
all windows. At the end of the corridor 
there was a door, at which my strange 
guide knocked. I heard somebody call 
from within: “ Herein! ” Then the door 
was opened and Father appeared. He 
made a deep bow, while he said: “ Why, 
Majesty!” He looked very much sur¬ 
prised as he stood there with palette and 
mahlstick in his hands. 

After exchanging a few friendly words 
with my father, the gentleman departed. 

“ You rascal,” said Father. “ How did 
you get here? Do you know it was the 
King himself who brought you here? ” 

“ That wasn’t a king,” I protested. 
“ Kings wear long white cloaks and have 
golden crowns on their heads and silver 
scepters in their hands.” 

It took Father some time to convince 
me that kings wear house gowns like other 
people and that they have many things to 


44 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

do besides sitting on thrones with crown 
and scepter. 

When I returned home after my adven¬ 
ture in the royal palace, the reception I 
received from Mother was anything but 
enthusiastic. I rather think it took some 
strong interceding on Father’s part to 
keep her from administering the severe 
punishment I deserved for causing her so 
much anxiety. 

In order to avert any further escapades, 
I was sent to the near-by Kindergarten. 
And a real children’s garden it was, con¬ 
ducted according to the ideals of Froebel 
and Pestalozzi. What schooling we had 
there was based entirely on play, and was 
given outdoors in a delightful garden with 
many winding paths. Glass houses were 
provided for rainy or cool days. Occa¬ 
sionally Queen Maria Theresa made a 
visit, accompanied by some of her ladies- 
in-waiting. This was always a festive 
occasion. Some of the little girls were 



The Royal Residence of Maximillian II 
















45 


Encountering the King 

allowed to recite little verses or to present 
a bouquet of flowers, which were gra¬ 
ciously received, usually with a kiss. I 
faintly remember these ladies coming 
through the garden gate in immense crin¬ 
olines and wearing little hats on top of 
towering coiffures, with streamers of gay 
ribbons fluttering about them. That was 
in the late fifties. 

In 1859 the first railroad train from 
Austria pulled into the Munich Depot 
amid great festivities, to which I was 
allowed to accompany my parents. To 
me the little train, decorated with wreaths 
and hemlock boughs, looked like a forest 
of Christmas trees rolling into town. The 
streets were gaily decorated with flags and 
flower garlands, and the air was full of 
music. I can still remember how gay I 
felt. But the festive day came near hav¬ 
ing a tragic end for me. 

In the afternoon, Mother took me to the 


46 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

house recently occupied by my paternal 
grandfather, who had died. It was a large 
house in the more aristocratic section of 
the city, and it had a big courtyard, which 
interested me more than Grandfather’s 
rooms, where Mother had some work to 
do. I was allowed to play with the chil¬ 
dren in the yard. 

A recent downpour had formed nice, 
irresistible puddles between the cobble¬ 
stones. We—about six of us—were not 
slow in divesting ourselves of our shoes 
and in splashing about to our hearts’ con¬ 
tent, a treat I could not often indulge in. 
Then one of the boys called out: 

“ Who dares to dance on top of the 
boards over yonder hole? ” 

“ H’m, that’s nothing,” I said, and in 
an instant I was on top of one of the shaky 
boards, which quickly gave way. Into the 
ill-smelling cessx^ool I should have gone, 
but the fear of the large rats which I once 
had seen in this yard kept me desperately 


47 


Encountering the King 

holding myself with outstretched arms 
between the remaining boards. 

All the other children, seeing my pre¬ 
dicament, had fled in terror. The yard 
was deserted. I could not have held out 
in the struggle very much longer, but just 
then a liveried servant came from the 
house, carrying a pitcher with which to 
draw water from the adjoining pump. He 
saw my danger and pulled me out. I was 
dripping and covered with slime, which 
splashed all over his maroon uniform and 
shining buttons. 

My mother’s astonishment, when I was 
brought to her in that indescribable con¬ 
dition, can easily be imagined. I dimly 
remember that I had to be conveyed home 
in a Droschke (hack) and that a big 
spanking was administered as soon as I 
could be handled. 

No wonder Munich, at that time, had 
the reputation of being an unhealthy city, 
full of typhoid and other fevers, when it 


48 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

had no drainage, when cesspools and wells 
stood side by side! But in the early sixties 
a great scientist, Ludwig von Pettenkofer, 
came to the rescue and installed a perfect 
drainage system. He also found a way of 
leading the pure waters of the Alpine 
mountain streams into the city by means 
of aqueducts. Munich has erected hand¬ 
some monuments to his memory. 

And I can well remember the time 
when people had to do their nightwork by 
candle-light, either by the unsteady flicker 
of tallow candles which required snuffing 
every few minutes, or by the more expen¬ 
sive wax candles which were used on 
festive occasions or in the houses of the 
rich. Gradually whale-oil lamps came into 
use. Then about 1860 petroleum was dis¬ 
covered, and oil lamps were converted into 
petroleum lamps and every one was ex¬ 
cited over the improvement. 

Later on, gas was conducted into the 
principal arteries of the city and the 



An Old City Gate at Munich 






















49 


Encountering the King 

streets were then supplied with gas 
lanterns. Every evening an army of 
lamplighters could be seen coming forth 
from the City Hall carrying long sticks 
with little torches which looked like so 
many fireflies swarming in all directions. 
With these they lighted each lantern, rows 
and rows of them. At daybreak these 
same lamplighters went from lamp-post to 
lamp-post to extinguish the yellow flicker¬ 
ing flames. What labor to keep a big 
city from being plunged into darkness 
throughout the night I 


CHAPTER IV 


PLAYMATES 

In 1860 we moved into a larger house 
on quiet Marsstrasse, where father had an 
unobstructed light for his studio on the 
third floor. The house had formerly been 
occupied by the famous Swiss educator, 
Pestalozzi, who, with Froebel, founded the 
Kindergarten. Two teachers’ families 
occupied the floors below. Herr Lehrer 
Aigner had eight boys of all ages, and the 
Kinasts had one boy, my own age. In the 
adjoining house there were two boys, but 
no girls. Thus it seemed that my play¬ 
mates would all be boys. But they were 
well brought up, and my parents did not 
object to my playing with them. Of 
course, I became more and more of a tom- 

50 


Playmates 51 

boy, participating in all their games. I 
played “ soldiers,” stormed forts, climbed 
trees and fences, and took part in jumping 
and running matches. In fact, there was 
nothing that the boys did that I did not do 
also. 

But before I was allowed to play, 
Mother bade me sit in the little arbor 
among the flower beds in front of the 
house and knit my daily task, twelve rows 
around the stocking. I had been taught 
to knit when I was five. The task was not 
always achieved without tears, for the 
boys outside were having fun. “ Why 
can’t I be a boy and not have to knit? ” 
I sighed. But Mother always insisted on 
“ work before play.” 

One day, a young lady who was sitting 
in the summer house offered to knit my 
twelve rows and let me run out to play. 
At night, Mother examined my work as 
usual. 

“ Who knit this? ” she asked me. 


52 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

“ Miss Mary,” I admitted shame¬ 
facedly. 

“ I thought so,” said she, “ for this work 
is much too clean to be your knitting.” 
Out came the four knitting needles. The 
twelve rows were ripped out, and I had 
to knit them all over again before I was 
allowed to retire. It was an impressive 
lesson in adhering to conscientious duty. 

Quite frequently on fine summer eve¬ 
nings the older inmates of the house and 
a few friendly neighbors joined us young¬ 
sters in the back yard and took part in our 
games, much to our delight. It was a nice 
large yard, really an ideal playground. It 
was fenced in by latticework, along 
which grapevines crept and apricot trees 
stretched their long arms on trellises. And 
there, old and young played “ blind man’s 
buff,” “ Tailor, tailor, lend me thy shears,” 
and other games which called for quick 
action. And what fun we had whenever 
one of the grown-ups had to be “ it,” or 


Playmates 53 

give forfeit and take his punishment! I 
am sure that Toni, or Peppi, or Xaverl, 
or Fritz, or Sigmund, if they are living, 
still must cherish, as I do, the memory of 
those happy evenings in Marsstrasse. 

We children always looked forward 
eagerly to the month of May. It not only 
brought balmy weather, green meadows, 
blossoms, and nightingales, but it also 
brought our friends, the Maikafer —those 
brown hard-shelled beetles with broom¬ 
shaped antenna*. In America they are 
known as “ June bugs/’ They arrived 
with the blossoms, whole armies of them. 
During the day they drowsed among the 
shrubberies, and were easy to catch. With 
the first arrival of the Maikafer, all the 
grocers and fruit vendors displaj^ed 
Maikafer Hduschen in all sizes. One 
could hardly find a child without one or 
more of these cute little houses with red 
roofs, sliding doors, and tiny windows for 
ventilation. These were the receptacles 



54 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

for the captured beetles during the day. 
We had been taught, both in our homes 
and in school, to treat even the smallest 
living creature with kindness and consider¬ 
ation, so we kept the beetles in captivity 
only during the day. We used to build 
large mud houses with plenty of air holes. 
In these houses we confined great numbers 
of the wriggling bugs. We delighted to 
see them soar and hear them buzz when we 
liberated them at sundown. 

On one of those delicious May evenings, 
Mother wished me to accompany her to 
one of the churches to attend the special 
May services, which included music by 
some of Munich’s most talented artists. 
I wore my best white dress of some fluffy 
material, and ruffled and embroidered 
white pantalets that reached down to my 
white shoe tops. Mother cautioned me to 
walk demurety and to look straight ahead. 
I was not at all enthusiastic about going 
to a church, when I would so much rather 


Playmates 55 

have rolled hoops with the boys. But I 
knew by experience that I must obey 
without remonstration. 

So I slowly loitered behind Mother, 
amusing myself by catching an occasional 
drowsy Maikafer along the way. Dresses 
in those days were provided with deep 
pockets. I found more and more of the 
sleepy beetles and, as I had no receptacle 
for them, consigned them to my pocket, 
which I held tight with one hand to guard 
its contents. 

We soon reached the church. Mother 
was quite unaware of my collection as I 
decorously seated myself beside her in one 
of the front pews. But I soon became 
sleepy and relaxed my hold on my pocket, 
forgetting all about the beetles I had car¬ 
ried into church with me. Presently I 
began to squirm and to scratch and to rub 
my back against the pew. I could no 
longer remain still. Mother, mortified at 
my behavior, finally rose and took me out- 


56 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 



side to investigate the cause of my dis¬ 
graceful actions. 

There, crushed all over my body and 
staining my dainty dress, were the corpses 
of ever so many Maikafer! As I walked 
home through the quiet residential streets, 
I cried and sobbed, not over the ruined 
dress, but over the innocently slaughtered 
beetles. 

On hot summer afternoons I was given 
my greatest treat when Mother took me 
aboard one of the lumbering omnibuses 
which conveyed passengers out to Schwab- 
ing, where bathing huts had been erected 
on the banks of the Wuerm, a slowly flow¬ 
ing creek, and where I was allowed to 
paddle in one of the shallow partitions 
that had been set aside for children. Dur¬ 
ing the ride in the swaying vehicle I 
amused myself watching the lady passen¬ 
gers squeezing their immense hoop skirts 
through the narrow doors and trying to 
reach the top of the stage and seat them- 


Playmates 57 

selves without injury to the refractory 
crinolines. 

Whenever I had to do errands for 
Mother, either to the baker or the grocer, 
I loved to make a detour which led me 
past a very large orchard that was shut 
out from view by a high board fence, and 
which, therefore, had an air of mystery for 
us children. The enclosure was so high 
that none of my boy playmates had suc¬ 
ceeded in scaling it, though they had made 
several attempts to do so by climbing upon 
one another’s shoulders. I had discovered 
a little knot-hole, through which I looked 
every time I passed. I could see a little 
house almost hidden among trees and 
bushes, but I never saw a human being in 
that wonderful large garden. My fancy 
peopled it with witches and gnomes, who 
would only come out at night. One day 
I perceived a porcupine rolling itself 
under an apple tree, and then carrying off 


5 8 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

an apple spiked on one of its quills. I had 
once heard Father say that sometimes, 
when he came home late in the evening, 
he saw porcupines running around in the 
street and rolling themselves into balls at 
his approach. 

“ Oh, I want a porcupine! Please, 
Father, bring me one!” I begged him. 
One of these prickly animals would have 
been such a novel addition to my collec¬ 
tion of giant beetles and lizards, which 
Mother allowed me to keep in an ivy vine 
that occupied a whole window. These 
strange pets were contented and had be¬ 
come quite tame. 

Sure enough, my ever-indulgent father, 
to my great delight, brought me a baby 
porcupine wrapped in his handkerchief. 
Mother, who had already retired for the 
night, was quite unaware of the new pet. 
Since I could not take the prickly thing 
to bed with me, I fixed a little box for it 
and housed it under my bed, and went to 


Playmates 59 

sleep with a happy anticipation of the fun 
I would have with it the next day. But 
during the night Master Porcupine rum¬ 
maged around in a waste paper basket and 
in a desk in Mother’s room. This greatly 
alarmed Mother, who fancied that she 
heard a burglar. 

Of the ensuing commotion I heard 
nothing during my sound sleep. When 
I awoke, Father told me that the new pet 
would have to go, but that I had a baby 
sister instead. 

“ I do not want a baby sister, I want a 
baby porcupine! ” I howled. I was 
greatly distressed, because a tiny baby 
would be of no use to me as a pet. 

One of my cousins came to visit us soon 
after the arrival of the baby sister. Cousin 
Greti was a lively, rosy-cheeked girl of 
sixteen. Through her I became quickly 
reconciled to my little sister, because I was 
allowed to accompany Greti on her daily 
outings with the tiny baby. Our wise 


60 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

father insisted that the baby be taken out 
daily, in all weathers. There were no per¬ 
ambulators in those days, and babies were 
carried in WickeUnssen —long, slim, down 
pillows, which doubled in the middle and 
were folded over the infant so that it could 
lie perfectly straight on its soft bed while 
it was being carried about. Those Wick - 
elkissen could be trimmed as lavishly as 
fancy dictated, and were tied with dainty 
ribbons to secure the baby in its portable 
bed. I still possess the one in which I was 
carried. 

Some one brought me a new pet, an 
A ms el, a member of the thrush family and 
4 beautiful singer. We gave him not only 
a very roomy cage but the freedom of the 
house. He seemed very happy, for he 
delighted us with many cunning tricks and 
greeted us with mellow songs every morn¬ 
ing. In time, he even imitated the sounds 
he heard us make. Father was, at that 
time, a great admirer of Garibaldi, the 


Playmates 


61 


Italian statesman, and discussed him with 
his artist friends who came to the house. 
The Amsel must have been an attentive 
listener, for every time he saw Father 
come into the room he would sing out, 
“ Garibaldi! ” We had that interesting 
bird a good many years. 


s 


j 


CHAPTER V 


CHRISTMAS AND OTHER HOLIDAYS IN 

BAVARIA 

No Santa Claus with his team of rein¬ 
deer comes to the Bavarian children on 
Christmas Eve to fill their stockings with 
his gifts. No, it is the Christkind (Christ- 
child) who comes through the window on 
Christmas Eve to hang the presents on the 
Christmas tree. 

Oh, yes, there is a Santa Claus. He is 
known to the Bavarian children as “ Sankt 
Nicholaus,” and he visits them on his 
name’s day, the sixth of December. He is 
merely the Christkind’s messenger, who 
comes to find out how the children behaved 
through the year and whether they de¬ 
serve the things they had asked for in their 
letters to the Christkind. He goes from 

62 


Christmas and Other Holidays 63 

door to door on that evening, dressed in a 
brown or gray cloak and wearing a 
bishop’s cap. Of course, he has a long 
white beard. Usually he has a sack over 
his shoulder. It is filled with nuts and 
apples, which he deals out to the children 
whose parents can furnish a good report. 
These children he promises to recommend 
to the Chiistkind. In my day “ Sankt 
Nicholaus ” also produced a chastising rod 
made of willow twigs, with a gilt nut on 
one end. He gave this rod to the mother, 
to be used in case of necessity. Usually 
it was placed in some conspicuous place, 
as a reminder to the children. “ Sankt 
Nicholaus ” was almost always accom¬ 
panied by an assistant, who waited outside 
with a big empty sack, and showed him¬ 
self only when called by his master. His 
presence awed the boys and girls who had 
guilty consciences, for he threatened to 
put them in his bag and carry them far, 
far away, where they never would have 


64 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

any Christmas, unless they promised to be 
good. 

In Bavaria, the most keenly anticipated 
event is Christmas Eve. I still love to 
recall the atmosphere of mystery which 
pervaded the house all through December, 
and the spicy fragrance of cookies, honey 
cakes, and marzipan, which were baking 
in the kitchen. I remember how willingly 
I kept out of the kitchen when I was told 
to, and how eagerly I ran on errands, or 
tried to make myself useful without being 
told. 

Then, at last, the supreme moment 
came. On Christmas Eve the door of the 
best-room that had been locked for a week 
was opened. We stood speechless before 
the Christmas tree and admired its scintil¬ 
lating candles, its silver and gilt nuts, its 
pine cones and prisms, and the luminous 
Christmas angel on its top. Our Christ¬ 
mas trees, without tinsel or gaudy orna¬ 
ments, were quite effective in their 



Munich, the Isar River, and the Alps 










Christmas and Other Holidays 65 

simplicity. The presents for each member 
of the family were laid out on little tables. 
Christmas was then mainly a festival for 
children, and only a few close friends or 
lonely relatives were invited. The giving 
of gifts among adults was not customary, 
although intimate friends sometimes ex¬ 
changed simple tokens of remembrance. 
Nor were Christmas cards sent to all one’s 
acquaintances. There was hardly a home 
without a Christmas tree, however, for the 
many benevolent institutions arranged for 
the distribution of trees to as many poor 
homes as possible. 

As the hour of midnight approached, 
every one listened for the peal of the many 
church bells that would call the people to 
midnight mass. I can yet hear the sono¬ 
rous boom of the great cathedral bells vi¬ 
brating through the still night, and the 
chorus of the many little bells that 
mingled in a tuneful proclamation of joy 
and peace. 


66 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

People of all creeds flocked to the 
churches to hear the Christmas music, 
some of which was rendered by famous 
opera singers. The church nearest to our 
home was the Basilica, a magnificent edi¬ 
fice with a stately colonnade in front. In 
the interior, sixty-six white marble col¬ 
umns seem to support a vaulted blue sky 
that is dotted with stars of gold. For 
more than an hour the patient crowd 
would stand shoulder to shoulder, all the 
pews having been removed, and would 
await the supreme moment when the 
trumpet would sound and a chorus of a 
thousand voices would respond to the solos 
of the opera singers with the grand old 
hymn: 

" Es ham die gnadenvolle Nacht —The 
blessed night has come.” 

As a rule, deep snow and biting cold 
were associated with Christmas Eve. 
When there was a clear sky and the moon 
and myriads of twinkling stars were shin- 


Christmas and Other Holidays 67 

ing down on the home-going crowds and 
on the houses in whose windows stood the 
illuminated Christmas trees, it was a night 
which filled young and old with a happi¬ 
ness and a thrill such as did no other night 
in the year. 

On Christmas Day everybody enjoyed 
the privacy and comfort of home, as well 
as the festive Christmas dinner with the 
never-failing roast goose, while the chil¬ 
dren reveled in the wonderful things that 
the Christkind had brought them. 

In many homes and in the churches are 
shown more or less artistic representations 
of the Krippe , that is, the stable in Beth¬ 
lehem, with the Holy Family, the Shep¬ 
herds, the animals, the Star, the three 
Wise Men, and everything pertaining to 
the birth of the Christ-child. In a land 
where there are so many skilled wood- 
carvers, especially in the villages like 
Oberammergau, there is great competition 
in the creation of these Krippen . 


68 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 


New Year’s Eve —Sylvester Abend — 
was another occasion for celebrating and 
for family gatherings. Just as there was 
no Christmas without a tree, so there was 
no Sylvester Abend without home-brewed 
orange punch, sliced ham, and spicy cakes. 

It was an event to see so many oranges 
in the house on the last day of the year, 
for they were an imported and expensive 
product in Bavaria. And Father brought 
home a whole Zuckerhut —a ten-pound 
pyramid of sugar. Granulated sugar was 
not used then. Our sugar was bought in 
a solid lump and had to be broken and pul¬ 
verized in a brass mortar with a pestle. 
This was usually my task, and a long and 
weary one I found it. The hot beverage 
was brewed for our gathering of jolly 
friends, who, at the stroke of midnight, 
rose in a body, clinked glasses, and 
shouted ,“ Prosit Neu-jahr! ” This consti¬ 
tuted our annual New Year’s celebration. 
Christmas and New Year’s Eve were the 



Christmas and Other Holidays 69 

only occasions when I was allowed to stay 
up as late as the older people. 

Young folks usually amused them¬ 
selves on New Year’s Eve by trying to 
pry into the future. They melted lead 
and poured it into cold water, where it 
formed all sorts of figures, from which 
they fancied they could read their fate. 
On New Year’s Day it was the custom to 
call upon friends and to exchange good 
wishes. 

The next great holiday was Easter. 
Throughout the Holy Week there was 
great scrubbing and renovating in all 
households. The Bavarian housewife is 
scrupulously clean and thorough in the 
discharge of her domestic duties. Since 
most homes had no plumbing, doors and 
windows had to be carried to the pump in 
the yard to be given a good scrubbing, in 
order to avoid carrying the water into the 
house and upstairs. 


70 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

Easter was one more occasion for bak¬ 
ing cakes. The confectionery stores dis¬ 
played all sorts and sizes of Easter lambs 
and Easter rabbits, made of cake and 
frosting. Of course, there were the col¬ 
ored eggs which the Easter Rabbit hid in 
out-of-the-way places for the children to 
hunt on Easter morning; and the boys 
played a game of Eier specken ,—with the 
end of his egg, a boy would hit the other 
eggs, and if he could crack them, they 
were his. 

Everybody tried to wear something new 
at Easter. Mother bought me a new cape 
and let me wear it on the way home from 
the store where it was purchased. It had 
a hood, a convenient receptacle for almost 
anything. It happened that Mother had 
no room in her market basket for a dozen 
eggs which she had bought, so she depos¬ 
ited them in my hood. While she was 
making other purchases, I leaned against 
one of the pillars in the marketplace, for- 


Christmas and Other Holidays 71 

getting all about the precious load on my 
back. The tableau can easily be imagined. 

Near the end of June there is another 
holiday—St. John’s Day. This is com¬ 
memorated in the churches, but to us chil¬ 
dren it meant an excursion to some near¬ 
by dell where elder-bushes grew wild and 
were in full bloom at that time. We filled 
many baskets with the fragrant blossoms, 
which our mothers converted into a most 
delicious pastry, the Hollerkucheln . This 
was strictly a Bavarian dish, and was to 
be had only around St. John’s Day, when 
the elder-bush was in bloom. The blossom 
clusters, after being freed of insects, were 
dipped into a thin batter of eggs, milk, 
and flour, and were then fried in deep fat, 
all but their long stems. When sprinkled 
with sugar, they made a most delicious 
dish. 

October brings the harvest feast in 
fields and orchards and vineyards, of 
which the city dweller knows naught, un- 


72 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

less he has relatives in the country and is 
invited to join their frolics and dances. 
At this feast, the tables are laden with 
almost everything that the farm has pro¬ 
duced. It is very much like the American 
Thanksgiving, except that neither turkey 
nor pumpkin pie is served. Bavarians are 
very much surprised to learn that there 
are people who eat pumpkins. In Bavaria 
they are raised only for fodder. 

Of Hallowe’en pranks and parties we 
knew nothing in Bavaria. This custom 
originated in England, where All Souls’ 
Day was associated with spooks and 
witches and mischief-making. In Bavaria, 
the first of November was a day for com¬ 
memorating the departed and for visiting 
and decorating their graves. Most people 
wore black, and an air of silence generally 
prevailed over the city. The catacombs 
underneath the churches, where princes 
and priests were buried, were open to the 
public on All Souls’ Day, and people went 


Christmas and Other Holidays 73 

from church to church to view them. Sol¬ 
diers could be seen with their rifles pointed 
downward, just as they were during the 
days of mourning for a king. 


CHAPTER VI 


SCHOOL-DAYS 

Public-school attendance in Bavaria 
is, and always was, compulsory. Every 
child between the ages of six and thirteen 
must go through the elementary and 
grammar grades, and those who are not 
able to attend high schools or preparatory 
schools are compelled to attend classes on 
Sundays until they are sixteen years old. 
The parents are responsible for their chil¬ 
dren’s regular attendance, and are fined 
whenever a child is kept out of school 
without sufficient excuse. The schools, as 
well as the churches, are under State con¬ 
trol, and public-school teachers rank 
among the most highly respected and 
privileged citizens. 

At the age of six I was introduced to 

74 


75 


School-days 

my first teacher, in whose class I was to 
sit for five consecutive years, for the 
teachers there accompany their classes 
through all the grades. Thus they come 
to know their pupils well, and often form 
lifelong attachments. Boys and girls are 
segregated and are taught in different 
parts of the building, the boys being in¬ 
structed by men, the girls by women. 

My teacher, alas, was a sedate, elderly 
lady, very stern and dignified, and I 
shrank from her. I do not recall that she 
ever smiled during the five years I was 
under her. But she was very thorough, 
and a strict disciplinarian. Above all, she 
impressed polite manners and filial respect 
on us. We were taught the proper cour¬ 
tesies to show our superiors, such as when 
to walk to the right and when to the left 
of a person, according to rank. At the 
approach of New Year’s, she helped us 
compose congratulatory letters to our par¬ 
ents, which we copied on fancy paper, 


76 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

usually beflowered and lace-edged, and 
then rolled and tied with dainty ribbon. 
On New Year’s morning we solemnly pre¬ 
sented these letters to our parents, who 
patiently listened to our stammered words 
of gratitude and our good promises. I * 
think I still have some of those high-flown 
effusions among my relics. 

During the first two grades of school 
we used quills, which the teacher had to 
sharpen every time they became dull. 
Steel pens came into use about 1862. In¬ 
stead of blotters we used Streusand —very 
' fine sand which was strewn over the writ¬ 
ten page. All sorts of Streusand were 
used for letter-writing—pink and blue 
and gilt. It was very often necessary, 
upon receiving a letter, to shake the sand 
from the pages before the writing became 
visible. 

Our seats and desks were anything but 
comfortable. There were long narrow 
tables, with holes for the inkstands, and 


77 


School-days 

long straight benches without backs. No 
allowance was made for our short legs, 
which had to dangle uncomfortably from 
eight to eleven in the morning and from 
two to four in the afternoon. The school 
term began in September and lasted until 
the middle of July. Those of the pupils 
who took private lessons after four o’clock 
in the afternoon had to bring candles and 
snuffers during the short winter days. 

Our textbooks were anything but at¬ 
tractive. Compared with the beautifully 
illustrated books that the youth of the 
present day is favored with, they were 
drab and uninteresting. Moreover, we 
had to learn their contents by heart and 
recite them word for word. I rebelled. I 
wanted to recite in my own way. But I 
was not allowed to do so, and I generally 
received a mark of deficiency. I liked 
composition best, because there I had free¬ 
dom of expression, and I was usually 
given a good grade. I also loved geogra- 


78 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

phy, mostly on account of the maps that 
we drew and adorned with crayons. His¬ 
tory, without illustrations to help us 
visualize the scenes and peoples of other 
lands and their heroes, became only an en¬ 
tanglement of dates which I could not re¬ 
member. 

From the first grade on, we were taught 
to use our hands as well as our brains. We 
soon learned to knit our own stockings. In 
fact, all stockings were knitted by hand, 
for knitting machines had not yet been in¬ 
vented. White cotton stockings were 
worn during the summer, and colored 
woolen ones in winter. No one thought 
of silk hose then. Later we were taught 
to crochet, to embroider, and to do fillet 
work, and at the close of the school term 
our handiwork was exhibited and prizes 
were given. We were also taught that our 
hands must never be idle, and thus we 

formed the habit of knitting while we 

« 

studied our lessons. Even on Sundays 


79 


School-days 

and holidays, when young girls gathered 
for a social visit, they brought their knit¬ 
ting along. 

In the more advanced grades great 
stress was laid on letter-writing and on the 
particular formulas to use when address¬ 
ing persons of rank. We even had to 
practise writing petitions to the king. We 
were especially instructed never to use the 
pronoun “ I ” at the beginning of a letter, 
since this was considered very rude; and 
pronouns of the second person must un¬ 
failingly be written in capital letters, but 
the pronoun ich never. 

Occasionally, we were permitted to see 
some interesting exhibit, and we were 
told the day before to bring our pennies 
It was usually some object of natural his¬ 
tory, such as a coon, or a performing 
monkey. Or we were shown the workings 
of a mine, with miniature mechanisms and 
miners. All these things were very in¬ 
structive and left an everlasting impres- 


80 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

* 

sion. One day, stereopticon views of dif¬ 
ferent parts of the world were shown. The 
one that impressed me the most and really 
filled me with awe was a view of Niagara 
Falls. Full of enthusiasm, I ran home to 
tell about it, exclaiming: “ I know I won’t 
die before I have seen those great falls! ” 
Years later I actually beheld that marvel 
of Nature. 

During the spring, all the public-school 
children looked forward to the weekly Sat¬ 
urday outings with their teachers. We 
usually hiked to some attractive place out¬ 
side the city limits, gaily singing all the 
way. A favorite outing was along the 
banks of the Isar. We walked until we 
found an inviting grove of fir trees on ris¬ 
ing ground, where we were allowed to 
abandon ourselves to innocent fun and 
sports. After we had rolled down the hill 
to our hearts’ content, we assembled to 
play games. A popular game for the 
boys was Sacklaufen . For this game the 


81 


School-days 

teachers had provided a good supply of 
stout sacks. These were donned by a 
number of boys, who then tried to run 
races in Jhem. Those who reached the 
goal without falling down received prizes. 
The girls were equipped with potatoes and 
long-handled spoons. Their game was to 
run a race while carrying the potato on 
the spoon. Whoever could do so without 
dropping the potato received a prize. 
What fun we had! 

In winter our favorite sport was sliding 
on the ice. The boys made long rows of 
ice by pouring water along the edge of the 
curb before school opened in the morning. 
By the time school was out, the water 
would be frozen. We glided back and 
forth for hours, boys and girls together, 
no one interfering with our sport. We did 
not mind an occasional tumble, or falling 
in a heap on top of one another. Of 
course, this sort of sport was detrimental 
to our shoes, and many were the scoldings 


82 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

I received at home for wearing out my 
shoes so quickly. Present-day shoes would 
hardly have lasted a week, but shoes then 
were hand-made and could stand more 
wear. 

I still remember the Italian shoemaker 
who used to come to all the houses in the 
neighborhood, his tape measure dangling 
from the bag of footwear which he carried 
on his back. He made monthly calls, 
always on Sunday mornings, when the 
children were at home, and took our meas¬ 
ures for new shoes, or brought back those 
he had repaired. “ Be sure to put on extra 
thick soles for this tomboy,” my father 
used to say. And Herr Gihninetti surely 
made them heavy and clumsy. But as 
long as they were good for sliding I did 
not care. 

In 1864, King Maximilian II died 
rather suddenly. Our whole class was 
saddened by the news, although I was 
probably the only one who had ever per- 


83 


School-days 

sonally encountered the king. For six 
weeks, church bells throughout the land 
rang out for one hour each day, as was the 
custom after the death of Bavarian kings, 
and there was a scramble among the older 
school children for permission to pull the 
bell-ropes. 

I faintly remember that, about that 
time, our teacher told us of the Civil War 
in America and aroused our sympathy for 
the cause of the slaves. We were re¬ 
quested to bring to school all the clean 
linen pieces we could gather. During 
school hours we shredded these pieces into 
lint, to be sent to the distant battle-fields 
for the dressing of wounds. Many bales 
of this lint, which was then the only sur¬ 
gical dressing, were sent to America by 
German school children. 

On the last day of school, instead of 
having elaborate closing exercises, we were 
confronted by the entire Board of Educa¬ 
tion. Parents were allowed to stand in 


84 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

the rear of the classroom, to listen to the 
oral examinations by the members of the 
Board, who had the privilege of choosing 
any pupil their eyes happened to fall on, 
and asking any question on any subject. 
Most of us were too frightened to give 
intelligent answers, even though we were 
sure of our subject. It was always a day 
to be dreaded. But other records must 
have been kept, for at the close of the day 
the names of pupils who had distinguished 
themselves throughout the year were 
called out. These were permitted to ap¬ 
pear in the City Hall on the following 
day. They assembled in a richly deco¬ 
rated room, filled with proud parents and 
friends, and there received their prizes 
amid music and applause. We proudly 
carried off the prize books, bound in blue 
and silver, the Bavarian colors, and I have 
no doubt that most of us have treasured 
these books through life. 

During the last of the prescribed six 


85 


School-days 

years of public school we had a different 
teacher for the more advanced studies. 
This teacher, Fraulein Rieger, was very 
different from our former teacher, and we 
all loved her. She was genial, sympa¬ 
thetic, and understanding. She made 
school days a pleasure, and studies a treat. 
Her memory is, no doubt, dear to every 
one of her class. 

Unlike Fraulein Riefler, under whose 
stern regime we had quaked for five rather 
anxious years, this sprightly little lady, 
with her rosy beaming countenance and 
her kindly blue eyes, had endeared herself 
to every one of us, from the very first day. 
Attendance at school became a pleasure, 
instead of a relentless daily duty. After 
class, instead of rushing out of the build¬ 
ing as fast as we could, we loved to linger 
around that motherly, understanding 
soul, confiding our little troubles to her. 
We hated to think that she was to be our 
teacher for only one year. 


CHAPTER VII 


IN THE POET’S HOME 

When I was ten years old, we moved 
into the house of Father’s friend, Dr. 
Hermann von Lingg, who was soon to be 
recognized as one of Germany’s great 
poets. The cozy house was situated in 
Nymphenburgerstrasse, which is really an 
avenue of grand old linden trees that leads 
to the beautiful old castle of Nymphen- 
burg, which, since 1663, has served as an 
afternoon resort for the royal families. 
This castle stands near the shore of a lake, 
where swans glide about majestically in 
the summer time. At the main entrance, 
a fountain sends its spray ninety feet into 
the air. Behind the buildings, beautifully 
arranged gardens are accessible to the 
public. One can promenade there for sev- 

86 


In the Poet's Home 87 

eral miles among a veritable mosaic of ex¬ 
quisite flower beds, or in the shade of rare 
shrubberies. Tame deer can be seen gam¬ 
boling about in the wooded background. 

While we lived in Nymphenburger- 
strasse, the king and the queen, on almost 
every fine summer afternoon, could be 
seen riding to the Nymphenburg castle. 
A rider in a blue uniform, mounted on a 
white horse with silver harness, preceded 
the glittering blue and silver equipage, 
drawn by no less than eight horses. The 
royJd pair were kept busy saluting all 
along the road. On some days the car¬ 
riage would come to a halt in front of the 
poet’s house. The queen would descend 
with two of her ladies to admire the masses 
of roses in our little garden, or perhaps to 
obtain a better view of the home of the 
poet who had so recently been honored by 
the king in recognition of his merits. 

The upper floor of the house was occu¬ 
pied by the Lingg family, while we had 


88 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

the lower floor. There were two Lingg 
boys at home, Hans and Rudolph, and a 
little girl, Amalie. Two grown sons were 
away. Thus I had more boy playmates. 
After we moved there, I saw no more of 
my former chums, but I was soon at home 
with the two Lingg boys, who were of my 
own age, and with a Max Corregio, a 
neighboring artist’s son. We four amused 
ourselves in many ways. We constructed 
bridges over imaginary rivers by laying 
boards on brick foundations over the 
gravel walks in the yard. We labored 
hard to make fountains, but they never 
materialized, as we did not understand the 
physical principles that were involved. 
We tried to outdo one another with stunts 
on the trapeze, or we climbed the tall mul¬ 
berry tree at the end of Dr. Lingg’s gar¬ 
den in the rear of the house. 

One day I had climbed higher than I 
had intended, and found myself suddenly 
deserted by all the rest, who had been 



Dr. Hermann von Lingg 
A friend of the Tauber family. 









In the Poet's Home 89 

called to dinner. Try as I might, I saw 
no way of getting down. I began to cry. 
Dr. Lingg, who was walking in the gar¬ 
den, saw my predicament. “You would 
like to get down, would you? ” he called 
up to me. “ Do you know what to do? 
Run and get yourself a hook, and hook 
yourself down! ” It sounded like a good 
idea, and I was not long in reaching the 
ground. Then I began to run after the 
hook, when, halfway to the house, it oc¬ 
curred to me that I no longer needed it. 

I can still picture Dr. Lingg, a tall 
stately figure, with curly grayish hair fall¬ 
ing over a high, noble forehead, a tangled 
beard framing a kindly face, and dreamy 
gray eyes that looked into your very soul. 
That remarkable head has since been 
painted by many artists. His best-known 
portrait is by Lembach. 

Frau Seraphine Lingg was a kind, 
motherly soul, to whom we came with all 
our troubles, and whose jar of cookies was 


90 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

accessible to us on special occasions. She 
and my mother were ever busy with their 
housewifely duties and so did not have 
much time for neighbor^ visits. 

Frau Lingg, who realized her husband’s 
great modesty and retiring disposition, 
sometimes arranged garden parties to 
which she invited the great authors and 
artists of the day, all admirers of the fa¬ 
mous poet. I can still recall the distin¬ 
guished men sitting in little groups in the 
garden, or wandering among the flower 
beds to inspect Dr. Lingg’s choice im¬ 
ported plants, which he cultivated with 
great love. There were such men as Paul 
Heyse, Friedrich von Bodenstedt, and 
Emanuel Geibel—men whose writings 
have survived and are read in many coun¬ 
tries. Then there were the artists, Lem- 
bach, Kaulbach, Piloty, and others. 

We children, of course, were neither to 
be seen nor heard on such occasions, but 
rarely did our presence remain altogether 


In the Poet's Home 


91 


unnoticed, for we generally created a 
' great commotion in the shed where we 
were supposed to play. On one of these 
occasions, Hans and I engaged in a big 
fight in the yard adjoining the garden, 
where the illustrious company was assem¬ 
bled. Hans approached me with a long 
pole, which I quickly broke so that I 
might reach him and pull his hair. His 
cries attracted his father, who, upon sens¬ 
ing the cause of the disturbance, pulled 
off one of his leather slippers and gave 
Hans a sound thrashing for fighting with 
a girl. Hans never forgave me this hu¬ 
miliation, and we became bitter enemies. 
We were both thirteen years old then. 
We never had a chance to make up our 
differences, for Hans soon departed for 
America with his uncle, Dr. Lingg’s 
brother, and I never saw him again. 

Many years later, after I had become 
a citizen of the United States, Mrs. 
Lingg, with whom I had remained in af- 


92 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

fectionate correspondence, sent me his 
New York address and asked me to com¬ 
municate with him. I had keenly antici¬ 
pated renewing our childhood friendship, 
but when I found his residence, it was va¬ 
cant and closed up. I learned that he had 
passed away quite suddenly. However, I 
found his widow and children, with whom 
I am still in friendly intercourse. 

Amalie, the little girl of yore, is now the 
sole survivor of the Lingg family. A few 
years ago, when it was my good fortune to 
visit my native country, I was her guest at 
her beautiful estate on Lake Constance, 
near Lindau. Two aging women then in¬ 
dulged in reminiscences of their childhood 
days in Nymphenburgerstrasse so long, 
long ago. Several letters from Dr. and 
Mrs. Lingg are still among my treasured 
keepsakes. 

We children always looked forward to 
the annual visits of Dr. Lingg’s brother. 
We called him “ the rich American,” be- 


In the Poet's Home 93 

cause he lavishly distributed candy among 
us and because he had a row of gold teeth. 
With such teeth, he must be immensely 
rich, we thought. 

Modern dentistry, incidentally, was not 
yet known in Germany. Old people with 
sunken mouths and protruding chins were 
common sights. Whenever a tooth be¬ 
came painful, a poultice was tied around 
our cheeks, or we were sent to the barber, 
who also functioned as tooth-puller and 
as surgeon. It cost the equivalent of a 
nickel and all the courage we could sum¬ 
mon to have a tooth pulled. The barber’s 
sign was a brass vessel, which hung over 
the door of his shop. This signified that 
one could be bled for headaches and for 
other ailments. In case of accident, it was 
usually the barber who was sent for. 

It was quite a long walk from the 
Lingg house to school. But the route led 
past some of the most stately buildings in 
the city, and past some beautiful gardens, 


94 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

where peacocks strutted about. I loved to 
watch these proud birds and often wished 
that they would lose some of their tail- 
feathers. Then the road passed through 
the classical arches of the Propylaen, with 
art museums on either side and a view of 
the giant obelisk in the distance. Al¬ 
though so much beauty, passed daily on 
the way to school, gradually assumed a 
commonplace aspect, it could hardly fail 
to create, unconsciously, a taste for the 
beautiful. 

Munich also had its share of music. 
Military bands marched through the 
streets on the way to daily practice, play¬ 
ing inspiring marches. Here and there, 
an opera singer could be heard through an 
open window. The public parks, where 
whole families assembled for an evening’s 
sojourn, were full of music; and every 
noon an appreciative crowd was attracted 
by the military band which played in front 
of the royal residence. 


CHAPTER VIII 


SIMPLE LIFE AND SIMPLE PLEASURES 

The Bavarian people have always been 
lovers of music, of art, and of nature, and 
they have been proud of the beauties of 
their hills and lakes and forests. When I 
was a little child, my greatest treat was to 
start out very early in the morning to 
walk with my parents, sometimes for 
hours. We were often accompanied by 
some other artist’s family. We were so 
happy when, with the city behind us, we 
meandered between fields of golden wheat, 
with red poppies and blue cornflowers 
peeping out between the waving blades; 
and when we reached the silent forest we 
inhaled the spicy fragrance of the firs and 
the pines, and took a short rest upon beds 
of slippery pine needles. 

95 


96 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

Mother used to acquaint me with the 
wild flowers and with the various species 
of mushrooms, while Father related deeds 
of bravery that had been enacted in the 
Bavarian forests in the days of knight¬ 
hood. Or some one in the party would 
tell a fairy story, which caused me to see 
elves and dwarfs and fairies among the 
trees. It made me forget my weariness 
as we resumed our hike. We would 
finally reach our goal, a delightful clear¬ 
ing in the forest, not far from the roaring 
Isar, where tables and benches were pro¬ 
vided for excursionists. Here refresh¬ 
ments could be had, or we could spread 
the lunches that we had taken along, sim¬ 
ple lunches of rye bread, cheese, and sau¬ 
sages. How good everything tasted, with 
appetites sharpened by the long walk and 
by the pure, spicy air! The long home¬ 
ward hike was not begun until sundown. 
Several such excursions were made during 
the year. Once in a while we took a little 











Simple Life and Pleasures 97 

train to beautiful Lake Starnberger, 
where we enjoyed a view of the neighbor¬ 
ing Bavarian Alps. 

During the winter children were al¬ 
lowed to see the Marionettes in company 
with their elders. It was an immense 
treat to see enacted our picture-book fa¬ 
vorites, such as Snow-white , or to live 
again through the sad fate of Heinrich 
von Eichenfels, who was kidnapped by 
gypsies, or of Rosa von Tannenburg, who 
met a similar fate. We always looked for¬ 
ward to the tragic scenes when the little 
figures on the miniature stage caused us to 
weep. 

On cold Sunday afternoons, we often 
went with our parents to the little lake in 
the middle of the big city park, the 
Englische Garten , where we watched the 
skaters, or made our own attempts to 
skate. With such simple and innocent 
pleasures I passed a very happy child¬ 
hood, never found any distance too great 


98 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

to walk, and grew up healthy and strong 
and fearless. 

Our daily living was simple and whole¬ 
some. Very little pastry entered our 
daily menu, and such a thing as pie was 
unknown. During the fruit season 
Mother sometimes baked, as a special 
treat, a simple pastry topped with apples 
or plums. Cakes were had on holidays 
only. We always had rye bread, but we 
were not allowed to eat bread that had 
just been taken from the oven. It was the 
custom, in most households, to knead 
large masses of dough, more than two feet 
long, and to send them to the baker’s oven 
on a long wooden board. There they 
would be baked into bread for three pen¬ 
nies a loaf. These loaves remained fresh 
and toothsome for nearly three weeks. 

The children’s breakfast consisted of 
rolls, usually of rye, and a bowl of milk. 
The adults had coffee and rolls. No butter 
or bacon or cereals ever found their way to 


Simple Life and Pleasures 99 

the Bavarian breakfast table. For dinner 
we had the unavoidable soup, meat, and 
vegetables, with possibly a simple pudding 
for dessert.. It was considered sinful to 
leave any food on our plates. On coming 
home from school in the afternoon, we 
were given a generous piece of bread, with 
sweet butter or honey, and whatever fruit 
was in season. For supper we had bread 
and milk again, or left-overs from dinner. 

One day an American family residing 
in Munich advertised for a good home for 
their kitten. In order to be the first one 
on the spot, I hastened to the given ad¬ 
dress early in the morning. The family 
evidently was at breakfast when I was 
ushered in. My astonished eyes saw the 
table laden with many viands, even with 
meat and potatoes, and with dishes and 
pitchers galore. I got the kitten, and 
could not hasten home fast enough to tell 
my folks that those Americans were al¬ 
ready having dinner . 


CHAPTER IX 


HIGH SCHOOL 

Once more we moved. Father needed 
more light for a large painting he was 
working on, and this time we moved into 
a sunny flat on the third floor of a house 
in Gabelsbergerstrasse. This street was 
named after Franz Xaver Gabelsberger, 
who in 1819 invented a calculating ma¬ 
chine and shorthand writing. 

Across the street from our house was a 
large outdoor gymnasium in a beautiful 
grove of hemlocks and firs. The principal 
was a personal friend of Father’s, and he 
gave me the privilege of using all the 
climbing, jumping, and swinging appa¬ 
ratus, provided I came after instruction 
hours and with an adult. I usually went 
with Father, who was quite an athlete 

100 


101 


High School 

himself. The ground was covered with a 
thick layer of tanbark, so I did not mind 
my frequent tumbles from trapezes and 
high platforms. My greatest fun was in 
following the interminable furrows of the 
Schneckenlauf, a vast winding trench, 
whose narrow paths led one through a 
perfect maze, back and forth, in and out, 
before the outlet was reached. I spent 
. many happy and profitable hours in that 
woodland gymnasium. 

I was thirteen years old now, and my 
parents concluded that I must lay aside 
my tomboy ways. But I remained very 
much of a tomboy at heart, in spite of the 
lengthened skirts that I had to wear. 

I was admitted to the High School for 
Girls, the only school of its kind in the 
city. There we studied higher arithmetic, 
but we did not touch algebra nor geome¬ 
try, since these subjects were deemed en¬ 
tirely unnecessary for girls, just as were 
Latin and Greek. We had a little super- 


102 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

ficial instruction in physics and chemistry, 
but no laboratory work. We learned 
nothing of hygiene or physiology, but 
great stress was laid on French and pen¬ 
manship, for which we had special teach¬ 
ers. As throughout the six years in the 
intermediate and grammar grades, re¬ 
ligious instruction was given twice a week 
by a clergyman, since there were no Sun¬ 
day-schools for that purpose. 

Our teacher of calligraphy was an 
elderly and very pedantic professor, whom 
we disliked. He called us “ geese ” when 
we failed to reproduce his shaky hiero¬ 
glyphics, and made us stand in the corner, 
which we very much resented. Some of 
us discovered that his shock of red hair 
was a wig. It was his habit, just before 
leaving the classroom, to don his tall hat. 
Then he gravely strutted through the 
room, and, on reaching the door, he very 
ceremoniously took off his hat, made a 
deep bow, and said: " Guten Morgen , 


103 


High School 

Tneine Damen! ” On one of these morn¬ 
ings, when he went through the customary 
ceremonies, off came the wig with the hat, 
much to the amusement of the whole class. 
W e never saw that professor again. 

We always looked forward to Friday 
afternoons, which were devoted to handi¬ 
work and to French conversation. On 
that day a great variety of needlework 
was produced by diligent hands. We 
made everything from stockings to elabo¬ 
rate curtains in fillet work, crocheted bed¬ 
spreads, and embroidered rugs. During 
these lessons we were not allowed to speak 
anything but French. On one of these 
afternoons, my seat-mate made a wager 
that I would not get my stocking finished 
by four o’clock. Our teacher, who had 
seen us talking, sent me down to the very 
last row in the room. She was a dainty 
little lady, and she went from one pupil to 
another, inspecting our work. Meanwhile 
water was being passed around, about 


104 When 1 Was a (rirl in Bavaria 

sixty of us drinking from the same glass. 
That was before science had warned peo¬ 
ple of germs. Triumphantly I had closed 
the point of my stocking, and wished my 
chum to know it. So I flung it over the 
heads of the girls in the rows between us, 
and, to my horror, it landed in the glass of 
water which was just being passed in the 
front row, where the little teacher was 
standing, inspecting a girl’s work. The 
water splashed all over her! I wilted in 
expectation of being expelled or incar¬ 
cerated. But instead, the dear little lady 
laughed it off and congratulated me on 
my marksmanship. 

A very different type was the teacher 
of composition. She delivered a very se¬ 
vere lecture one day on the perniciousness 
of reading novels, and admonished us 
never to do such a thing. The result was 
that all the girls in the class, most of 
whom had never known what a novel was, 
went in pursuit of cheap novels and read 


105 


High School 

them on the sly. The one that I borrowed 
proved to be a blood-curdling murder 
story, which so disgusted me that I did 
not want to look at another novel for 
years. 

Around the corner from the High 
School, there was a little stationery store, 
where we bought our supplies. To its 
friendly and sympathetic proprietress we 
were wont to confide all our little trou¬ 
bles. Nearly fifty years later, when I 
made a visit to my native haunts, I found 
the same little store, bearing the same 
name and managed by a descendant of the 
original proprietor. Everything was so 
unchanged that I seemed to be living in 
my teens again. I bought there what I 
could not have bought fifty years before, 
—a fountain pen. 

Though our High School was not a 
normal school, we were prepared, in a 
way, for teaching. Those who wished to 
enter that profession after graduating be- 



106 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

came apprentices to public-school teachers 
and learned by practice from the first 
grade up. Such an apprentice was 
obliged to undergo, at the end of every 
school year, a very rigid examination be¬ 
fore the School Board, before she could 
obtain her teacher’s license. The regular 
teachers’ seminaries prepared men to be¬ 
come public-school teachers. 

When we completed our High School 
course, which comprised a term of three 
years, we were considered Frauleins, and 
were prepared to face life as teachers’ 
apprentices, governesses, or traveling 
companions. There were also the art 
academies and the Conservatory of Music, 
which opened their doors to the especially 
talented. 

But since the days of my girlhood in 
Bavaria a great change has taken place in 
matters of education, through the initia¬ 
tion of the Youth Movement. This move¬ 
ment came into existence at the turn of 


107 


High School 

the century, and has been especially 
prominent since the Great War. 

The young people, under wise guidance, 
have broken away from the old, rigid dis¬ 
cipline and the time-honored rules. They 
have formed into well-organized groups, 
which spend their summer vacations in 
wandering about the country. With the 
motto, “ A healthy mind in a healthy 
body,” they go hiking over hill and dale, 
to study Nature and to visit places of 
cultural and historical interest in their 
Fatherland. 

Thus you may encounter, all through 
the summer, groups of boys and girls in 
simplest raiment with their rucksacks on 
their backs, some with guitars or violins 
strapped across their shoulders, gaily 
singing as they go along, now and then 
studying their maps, or stopping for a 
drink at some rural pump. But they are 
not wandering about without shelter. 
Citizens throughout Germany have en- 


108 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

tered into the spirit of the new movement 
and have provided Jugendherbergen 
(youth-shelters) where the wanderers are 
provided with free, sanitary lodgings and 
can obtain simple, wholesome food for a 
few pennies, or can cook their own meals 
on electric stoves. These shelters also 
have spacious reading rooms, where the 
young people can spend pleasant evenings 
with books or with music, and can make 
their plans for the next day. Thus educa¬ 
tion has really become an adventure. In¬ 
stead of poring over dry textbooks, they 
become acquainted with the people and the 
scenes of other towns, with the agriculture 
and resources of the country, and w r ith the 
historic places they have read about. 
They hike throughout the five weeks of 
their vacation and return to their school¬ 
rooms in glowing health and high spirits. 


CHAPTER X 


A POOR RICH GIRL 

My father did some portrait-painting 
at the house of a certain court councillor, 
whose daughter I was invited to visit. 
Minna was a motherless girl of my own 
age, who was under the very strict guard¬ 
ianship of an invalid aunt and a governess. 
She was never allowed to mingle with 
other children, nor could she go out with¬ 
out being accompanied by the governess. 

I really felt sorry for her. She passed 
the time in stuffy rooms with velvet hang¬ 
ings ; costly bric-a-brac which must not be 
touched, and gilded chairs which must not 
be removed from their corners. She never 
saw anything of the outside world, except 
when accompanied by her governess to 
and from a select school for children of the 
nobility, where no one was allowed to talk 

109 


110 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

anything but French, and where meals 
had to be eaten with white kid gloves. 

How much richer and happier I felt 
whenever I returned to my own simple 
home, where I could be my natural self! 
My heart went out to poor caged Minna. 
One Saturday, I succeeded in prevailing v 
upon her aunt, who had the migraine, to 
allow Minna to come home with me, on 
condition that she would be brought back 
at a certain hour. 

Minna’s happiness knew no bounds as 
she skipped along with me through streets 
she never had seen and through parks 
where groups of rollicking children 
played. On the way, we passed one of 
the “ Hans Kasperl Theaters,” an out¬ 
door Punch and Judy show, which on 
Saturdays always attracted a crowd of 
boys and girls. 

The tall curtained stand which formed 
the improvised stage was set in place on a 
vacant spot in the vicinity of a school- 


A Poor Rich Girl 


111 


house. A hundred or more eager faces 
were focused on the little calico curtains. 
At last, Hans Kasperl’s long nose and 
pointed cap appeared between the folds, 
and he shouted to the expectant young 
audience, in a Bavarian peasant dialect: 
“ Boys, are you all there? ” This brought 
forth a hearty “ Ja! ” from a hundred 
lusty throats. My aristocratic companion 
clapped her hands and joined in as bois¬ 
terously as any street gamin. She cer¬ 
tainly did enjoy this novel experience, 
although she probably did not understand 
the players’ most ungrammatical dialect. 

When we reached my home, I advised 
Minna to exchange her white organdy 
dress for an old one of mine, for I wanted 
to take her to a near-by abandoned lumber 
yard, where we would have a glorious 
time, jumping and clambering about and 
playing “ hide and seek.” Minna, in this 
new-found freedom, was almost beside 
herself with glee. It was such a novel ex- 


112 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

perience for this poor captive child. The 
long-suppressed tomboy element asserted 
itself in this hour of unmolested freedom 
and non-restraint, and Minna declared 
that she had never had such a delightful 
time in all her life. I had to promise to 
bring her there again, before she was will¬ 
ing to come home with me. We happened 
to have the customary Bavarian Saturday 
dish for supper—pigs’ knuckles and 
sauerkraut. How she enjoyed it! She 
begged me to bring her some the next time 
I came to her house, and also some of the 
rye buns which she had found so delicious. 

Had her people seen her at play, 
tousled and begrimed, cheeks flushed and 
eyes sparkling with happy excitement, 
and in a faded blue dress, they never 
would have recognized the decorous little 
damsel, who, within her princely confines, 
must always stand and walk just so, must 
always pose her mouth just so, and must 
never raise her voice. 


A Poor Rich Girl 


113 


Whether she told her aunt of her ad¬ 
venture, when my father returned her, 
spotless and happy, I don’t know. But 
she was allowed to come with me again 
and again, and these were the only happy 
days that the poor rich girl had ever ex¬ 
perienced. 

But her father soon transferred his 
household to one of his estates on the 
Rhine, and I saw no more of Minna. I 
often thought of the lonely girl, whose 
luxurious home had failed to make her 
happy and contented. I appreciated more 
than ever my plain but cozy home, where 
I was allowed to entertain my school¬ 
mates and where my many and varied 
pets, such as lizards, beetles, kittens, and 
an occasional tame sparrow, were never 
objected to, though they were sometimes 
very discomforting, and where the simple 
pleasure of a walking tour to some natural 
beauty spot was deeply enjoyed. 


CHAPTER XI 


HOME SKETCHES 

I still fondly remember the long, cozy 
winter evenings, when, after the day’s 
tasks were done and the school lessons 
were conquered, we sat around the table, 
with a bright lamp in the center. Mother 
knitted or mended, little sister worked 
over some puzzle, I busied myself with 
some fancy work, and Father read aloud 
to us from the inspiring works of Schiller 
or Goethe, or acquainted us with the liter¬ 
ature of other lands by reading transla¬ 
tions from Walter Scott, Dickens, and 
others. The Amsel, in his covered cage by 
the window, now and then twittered 
softly, and the kitten curled up in the 
workbasket, purring contentedly. From 
the walls, the portraits of my distin- 

114 


Home Sketches 


115 


guished grandparents, the work of my 
father’s earlier days, looked down upon us 
benignly. In the corner of the room the 
tall, brass-trimmed stove of greenish tile 
gave out its generous heat. These monu¬ 
mental stoves were built into the houses 
and were the only means of heating before 
coal and gas came to be commonly used. 
They reached to the ceiling, as a rule, and 
were ornamented with plastic figures. 
Wood and peat were used for fuel. 

Our simple, wholesome life, despite all 
the ups and downs of an artist’s career, 
despite occasional privations and self-sac¬ 
rifices, wove indelible threads of affection 
in my heart, which I felt very keenly 
when, a few years later, I was temporarily 
separated from home. I still have a great 
accumulation of letters from that period, 
and I am forced to smile at the lengthy 
effusions of filial love and devotion and at 
the expressions of longing that were 
poured forth on thinnest paper. The 


116 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

lines were often written crosswise to save 
space, and my poor parents had to strain 
their eyes to decipher them. 

I doubt if my poor little rich friend, 
Minna, ever cherished such fond recollec¬ 
tions of home, ever experienced real joy 
at receiving a simple, inexpensive gift, or 
was so thrilled, when taken to her first 
opera, as was I at the age of fifteen, when 
Father took me to the Royal Opera to 
hear Weber’s Freischutz. 

How happy I felt when Father, one 
Sunday afternoon, showed me the tickets 
to the opera! I threw my arms around 
his neck and hugged him for joy. Then, 
as we mounted the steps of the majestic 
building, it seemed that the tomboy had 
suddenly been left behind on the gym 
grounds, or in the littered lumber yard. I 
felt so dignified and lofty when, for the 
first time, I beheld the vast, resplendent 
interior, with its numerous scintillating 
chandeliers suspended from dizzy heights, 



The Opera House at Munich 



















Home Sketches 


117 


its seemingly endless rows of seats, and its 
receding galleries. I thought I had never 
seen such a beautiul painting, nor such an 
immense one, as that which appeared on 
the stage curtain. It was the famous 
“ Aurora riding on clouds in a golden 
chariot, heralding the break of dawn,”—a 
much-copied masterpiece of Cornelius. I 
was simply overawed. 

Soon the house resounded to the sweet 
music of voice and orchestra. I sat im¬ 
movable, as if in a daze. I probably did 
not fully comprehend the performance, 
for Father was rather disappointed that I 
was not touched to tears at certain scenes, 
as were other young girls. 

I was not able to attend many theatrical 
or operatic performances in Munich, for 
a few months later I left quite unexpect¬ 
edly for France. But that is another epi¬ 
sode in my life. 

One of the sweetest recollections of my 
girlhood in Bavaria centers around the 



118 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

early morning walks with Father, my best 
friend and companion. Often, on a cool 
summer morning, we would steal out of 
the house at five o’clock, before the rest of 
the family awoke. In the roseate light of 
the morning sun all Munich seemed yet 
asleep. Quietly, lest our footsteps awake 
some sleepers, we passed along the more 
secluded streets, where trees and gardens 
hid stately villas from sight, under the 
arches of the Propylaen, into the spacious 
Konigsplatz, and on to the frescoed 
arcades of the Hofgarten, the garden ad¬ 
joining the royal residence, where great 
fountains play ceaselessly. Father never 
tired of explaining to me the historical 
allusions in the many frescoes which adorn 
the walls of the arcades. These early 
morning lessons in the history of Bavaria, 
with explanations of mythological scenes, 
were certainly more impressive and more 
lasting than all the recitations out of our 
uninteresting textbooks in the classroom. 



The author passed this spot daily, to and from school. 













Home Sketches 


119 


From the Hofgarten we passed on to 
the English Garden, the largest and most 
popular of Munich’s parks. This park is 
really a vast fragrant wilderness. Its 
creeks and lakes, its waterfalls, and its 
stately trees of all descriptions make it a 
place where one can forget the city. 
Father and I spent many delightful morn¬ 
ing hours there, seated on some rustic 
bench, listening to the liquid notes of the 
thrushes. Sometimes a nightingale would 
pour forth its sweet melodies from a 
near-by thicket. Goldfinches and red- 
throats flitted past us, or hopped trust¬ 
ingly at our feet, in search of crumbs. 
Squirrels and chipmunks peered forth 
from low bushes. When Father put his 
hand in his pocket they bounded out and 
became quite familiar, for they seemed to 
sense that they were to receive some tid¬ 
bits. 

One morning, as we sat near the shore 
of one of the lakes, I amused myself by 




120 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

watching the white swans gliding majes¬ 
tically back and forth, too proud to 
approach the shore for the bread that I 
offered them. The largest of them, how¬ 
ever, eagerly snatched for one bit after 
another. When I had no more, he angrily 
took hold of my dress and proceeded to 
pull me towards the lake, and would have 
dragged me into the water if Father had 
not come to the rescue. I had never real¬ 
ized how strong these birds were. 

Those precious morning hours in 
Father’s company are unforgettable. He 
told me of his youth, of his aspiration, of 
the obstacles and disappointments that 
marked his early career as an artist, and 
how he finally overcame them. He also 
expressed to me the hope that Germany 
might one day become a republic. (Alas! 
he did not live to see his dream realized.) 
He told me how he admired America, and 
how he would have emigrated with other 
artists to the “ Land of the Free ” in 1848, 


Home Sketches 121 

had not his mother been hopelessly ill at 
the time. 

And I, in turn, confided to him all my 
girlish desires and dreams. I told him how 
I longed to cross the ocean and to see dis¬ 
tant countries. I did not realize that this 
wish would soon be fulfilled. 

The call of the cuckoo, hidden in some 
green thicket, reminded us that the morn¬ 
ing hour had far advanced, and that we 
must leave this delightful wilderness to 
face the day’s duties once more. 


CHAPTER XII 


RURAL BAVARIA 

There is a much greater contrast be¬ 
tween city life and country life in Bavaria 
than there is in America. Even the dia¬ 
lects and the dress are altogether different. 

Indeed, to understand a Bavarian 
peasant, unless he chooses to use the cor¬ 
rect language of his school textbooks, even 
a native German would need an inter¬ 
preter. As an example, he will say, 
" Naa, ee moag net ” for “ Nein } icli will 
nicht (No, I do not wish to),” or 
“ Ebses” for “ Etwas (something).” 
Once I lost my ^vay in a little town, and 
asked directions of a man in the field. 
“ YOj do gauge's oawie/’ he said very 
obligingly, " n noacha rachts uvrnmi .” 
That he meant, “ Ja, da gehen Sie hinun- 

122 


Rural Bavaria 


123 


ter und dann r echts herum (Yes, go down 
that way and turn to the right),” I could 
only guess from his gesticulations. 

The Bavarian country people still ad¬ 
here to the costumes that were worn in 
their grandfathers’ and grandmothers’ 
time. But they are picturesque and are 
the frequent subjects of artists’ brushes. 
The women still "wear wide short skirts of 
rather heavy material. Sometimes they 
don a gaily-bordered, white linen blouse 
with bulging sleeves. Over this a colored 
camisole is worn; on Sundays this is of 
velvet, and laced in front with a silver 
chain. A jaunty hat with a long feather, 
and coarse low-heeled shoes complete the 
costume. 

The men usually wear knee breeches, 
gay suspenders over white linen shirts, a 
green felt hat with a long feather, and, on 
holidays, short velvet jackets with silver 
buttons. It was quite the custom, when 
I was a child, for the wealthier peasants 


124 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

to have the buttons made of silver coins, 
thus indicating their wealth. In the 
mountainous regions of Bavaria the men 
wear short woolen stockings that leave the 
knees bare, and spiked shoes, to facilitate 
the climbing they have to do. 

Wood-carving is one of the chief accom¬ 
plishments of the Bavarian mountaineers. 
Even the children have acquired great 
skill with their pocket knives and often 
supply the city markets, especially at 
Christmas time, with many acceptable 
toys. During the long winter months, 
when the domestic animals must be herded 
in warm stables and the snow is deep out¬ 
side, these active people busy themselves 
chiefly with wood-carving and the making 
of pottery. 

The mountain folk are great lovers of 
music. There is hardly a house which 
does not possess at least one sweet-toned 
zither, the favorite instrument of the Ba¬ 
varians. Fiddles and accordions are also 



Bavarian Peasant Costumes 
Shown in picturesque parade at Munich. 











Rural Bavaria 


125 


popular instruments. During the winter 
the people pass many social evenings in 
playing and dancing, or in singing their 
favorite folk songs, of which they never 
tire. 

With the beginning of summer, all the 
cattle are driven away up to the highest 
plateaus of the Alps, there to graze on the 
luscious grass which the winter’s snows 
have left behind. There they remain until 
the first snowfall again heralds the long 
winter. The Alpine milkmaid moves up 
with the cattle, and all through the sum¬ 
mer months lives in her Almhutte making 
the famous Alpine butter, and caring for 
the calves. Towards evening, when the 
day’s work is done one can hear her long- 
drawn, musical yodel, which is echoed by 
the surrounding mountain-peaks and 
which tells the world below that all is well. 
Sometimes an answering yodel is heard 
from some other summit, and as they echo 
and reecho through the still, pure air, it is 


126 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

a unique melody which, when once heard, 
one can never forget. 

There are as many women at work in 
the Bavarian fields as there are men. 
These strong, sturdy women, with the 
glow of health on their rosy cheeks and in 
their glistening eyes, present a wholesome 
picture as they pitch the hay or the grain 
upon the wagons, or follow the plow with 
the seed. The Bavarian peasant is cor¬ 
dial, straightforward, and proud of his 
mountains, lakes, and forests. He will 
greet you with a Griiss Gott (which 
means “ God’s greeting ”) and a friendly 
nod, while his children are quite apt to 
bow politely to strangers on the road. 

A Bavarian village looks very much like 
a picture-book village, with its neat white 
houses nestling close together. There are 
flower boxes containing bright red gerani¬ 
ums in front of the little windows. Near 
the entrance stands a long bench, on which 
the villagers rest after the day’s work. 


Rural Bavaria 


127 


The dwellings are scrupulously clean. 
The white floors must be kept immacu¬ 
late, and the brass and copper kitchen 
utensils must shine and dazzle on their 
shelves. Many of the houses have paint¬ 
ings of saints or of Biblical scenes on the 
outside walls, for the peasants, as a rule, 
are a deeply religious people and they like 
to put their houses under the protection of 
their favorite saints. One sometimes sees, 
at crossroads, a little wooden shrine with 
the figure of the crucified Christ. Be¬ 
neath the figure is a bench on which the 
passing worshipper may kneel. At the 
close of day, when a little church bell rings 
for the Angelus, the workers in the fields 
suspend their work, the men bare their 
heads, and all offer a silent prayer to the 
Virgin. 

Every Hausfrau is proud of her well- 
filled and systematically arranged linen 
chest. And, when I was a girl, the Haus¬ 
frau in the city took the same pride in her 


128 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

linen as did her country cousin, and would 
have been ashamed to use cotton sheets or 
cotton underwear. I still remember the 
chill I experienced when I retired between 
cold, slippery, linen sheets on a cold, 
stormy night, in my linen chemise. Hot- 
water bottles and flannel nightgowns were 
not yet known. Sometimes beds were 
warmed for guests by moving a copper 
pan, filled with glowing charcoal, back and 
forth until the chill was removed from the 
sheets. It was a Spartan hardening 
process that we went through in our 
youth. And we grew up healthy and 
strong, and had great powers of resist¬ 
ance. 

The reason why the houses in the Ba¬ 
varian villages are so close together is that 
they were built at a time when Bavaria, 
the garden spot of Germany, was the envy 
of surrounding countries—Austria, Bo¬ 
hemia, and Hungary—and was frequently 
invaded, especially by the savage Huns, as 




mm 

BBliriiiTi iin ii i A . .«-*„*** i --■■ - - ...... rT T' ~ 

Photograph by Burton Holmes Furnished by Ewing Galloway 

A Crossroad Shrine 

Frequent in Bavaria, and useful because never overlooked 

by travelers. 


"-i*. ' 








Rural Bavaria 


129 


the Hungarians were called. To protect 
themselves, the Bavarians erected their 
houses close together, and built walls and 
moats around their towns. Remains of 
these walls and ramparts may still be 
found. 

Bavaria, with her many fine cities, her 
many natural resources, her many beau¬ 
tiful lakes and grand forests, her pictur¬ 
esque Alpine scenery, and her romantic 
castles scattered among the mountains, 
has been the Mecca of tourists from all 
over the world. And since she is no longer 
ruled by kings, the fairy like castles which 
the romantic Ludwig II erected in his 
mountain-kingdom are now open to the 
public. The splendor and magnificence 
which that beauty-loving monarch created 
there can hardly be described. In those 
castles, atop the majestic Alps, high 
above all human sound, the king found the 
solitude he craved. 

The most magnificent of Ludwig’s 


130 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

castles is Schloss Neuschwanstein, which 
looks down upon one of the most wonder¬ 
ful panoramas to be found anywhere in 
the world. As far as the eye can see, 
mountain rears upon mountain. Some 
are glistening white under eternal snows. 
Others are tinged with soft greens, pur¬ 
ples, or misty blues. At sundown, this 
ocean of rocks and cliffs and dark, wooded 
crests is glowing in flaming crimson. Far 
down in the valley, an emerald-green lake 
nestles placidly between towering walls of 
stone. All this beauty, which a poetic 
king, who really did not wish to be king, 
once enjoyed all by himself, is now acces¬ 
sible to the public, and every year thou¬ 
sands of tourists are drawn to behold this 
fairy castle in the Bavarian Alps. 

Let us pay a visit to this famous castle 
and see what lies within it. After a long 
climb over winding mountain paths, we 
arrive at a gate between two towers, over 
which is the statue of a dog, bearing the 


Rural Bavaria 


131 


inscription: Bei Tag und Naclit , die 
Treue vcacht 3 ’ (“Day and Night, the 
Faithful watches 7 ’). We have to climb 
some more steps before entering the court¬ 
yard, which is surrounded by high build¬ 
ings and a tower that is almost two hun¬ 
dred feet in height. If we wish to visit 
the royal rooms we must climb ninety- 
three stone steps inside this tower. From 
this point a most magnificent view can be 
obtained. 

Then we follow the guide into the mag¬ 
nificent gold and crystal throne room, 
which is two stories high. The ceiling is 
studded with painted stars and represents 
the sky, while the marble floor, with its 
mosaic designs of animals and trees, rep¬ 
resents the earth. The walls are covered 
with huge and priceless paintings, most of 
them representing scenes from Parsifal 
and Tannhduser. There is also a gal¬ 
lery, which is supported by sixteen marble 
columns. 


132 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

On a floor above is a room with mag¬ 
nificent frescoes, depicting scenes from 
Wagnerian operas. In fact, the whole of 
the Wagner Cycle is represented in the 
many rooms of this castle. To describe all 
the magnificence that King Ludwig has 
left behind him would require many more 
pages. No words of mine, I fear, could 
do his achievements full justice. 


Xonigsschhss Jfeusch wanstein . 



The Schloss Neuschwanstein 
A typical Wagnerian Castle (Schloss). 






CHAPTER XIII 


OBERAMMERGAU AND OTHER TOWNS 

If we follow the beautiful highland val¬ 
leys southward, we come to Oberammer- 
gau, which has been made famous by the 
Passion Play that is enacted there every 
ten years. Oberammergau takes its name 
from the little Ammer River, a tributary 
of the Isar. It was in the fifteenth cen¬ 
tury, when wars had devastated the little 
village and the people had neither crops 
nor cattle, that a plague swept over Ba¬ 
varia. In those days of distress the 
stricken people vowed that if Oberammer¬ 
gau were spared from this new disaster, 
they would give a performance of the Pas¬ 
sion Play every ten years. Their prayers 
were answered. There was not a single 
case of the plague in the village. 

Ever since that time, the pious people 

133 


184 When l Was a Girl in Bavaria 

of Oberammergau have performed the 
Passion Play, and have improved it at 
each performance. More than half of the 
town’s population is included in the cast. 
There is no chance for an outsider to as¬ 
sist, since the various roles are kept in the 
same families for generations. 

These peasant actors really live the lives 
of the Biblical characters they portray, so 
seriously do they take their mission. 
Months before the play is due, they let 
their hair and beards grow, and thus one 
must not be surprised to encounter men 
and boys with flowing locks in the village 
streets long before even preparations for 
the Passion Play are in order. Aside from 
giving their time to the serious study of 
their roles, they have developed great skill 
in pottery-making and wood-carving. 
When the tourists flock to Oberammergau 
by the thousands during the months of the 
play, the peasants find a good market for 
their wares. 


Oberammergau and Other Towns 135 

The Passion Play is enacted in an open- 
air theater, for which a background of 
green mountains furnishes a most appro¬ 
priate scenery. The auditorium, which is 
under cover, seats five thousand people. 
The play is begun at eight o’clock in the 
morning and lasts until six o’clock in the 
evening, with an intermission of two hours 
for lunch. Since there are not enough 
hotels and inns to accommodate the daily 
crowds, the villagers open their quaint lit¬ 
tle houses to the visitors, and offer board 
and room at most reasonable prices. Thus 
one may happen to dine with the Christus, 
or with St. Peter, or be waited on by 
Mary, the Mother of Christ, according to 
whose house his ticket has assigned him. 

For three summer months those peasant 
actors perform their strenuous parts. But 
so sincere are they in the fulfillment of 
their mission that they never show weari¬ 
ness. The play is masterfully acted 
throughout. It is so realistic in all the 


136 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

stages of the Passion that there are but 
few in the audience who are not touched 
to tears. Those simple peasants have de¬ 
veloped into real actors, because they have 
taken their parts most seriously. And 
their chorus of forty voices shows wonder¬ 
ful training. 

When the performance is over, a merry 
brass band marches through the streets. 
The audience streams out of the audi¬ 
torium and follows it, glad to be relieved 
of the long strain. In this unusual pro¬ 
cession there are people of many nations 
and many races, who have been attracted 
to the famous village. 

One goes away from Oberammergau 
feeling better for having mingled with all 
those good people, and hoping that, in an¬ 
other decade, it may be his good fortune 
to revisit the charming spot that nestles 
so cozily in the Bavarian mountains. 

There are other places in Bavaria that 



Photograph by Keystone 

Scene from Passion Play at Oberammergau 
Peter repents denying knowledge of his master. (Anton Lang as Christus) 




Oberammergau and Other Towns 137 

attract a great many sight-seers. Those 
who hunt for antiquity can find a number 
of ancient cities and towns within her 
confines. 

There is, for instance, Rothenburg on 
the Tauber, which has changed so little 
since its clumsy little houses, with their 
narrow, latticed windows, were built, that 
one might almost believe that it has been 
asleep since the Middle Ages. Dense 
growths of poplar and lime trees grow be¬ 
tween its old towers and walls and almost 
hide the town from view. But scores of 
artists revel in its ancient beauty, and love 
to sketch the quaint, almost crumbling 
structures that they find there. And tour¬ 
ists enjoy walking around the little city, 
or through the galleries of its old stone 
walls. 

The inhabitants of Rothenburg are con¬ 
tent to live as their forefathers lived. 
They resent all modern improvements, 
and only grudgingly have they allowed a 


188 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

little railroad to come to their town. 
They are friendly to visitors, however, 
and are proud to show them their many 
high-steepled churches, the house that is 
built on top of an arch, and the odd in¬ 
scriptions that are painted on the outside 
of their homes, most of them in such obso¬ 
lete German that they cannot be read by 
the present generation. 

Then, who has not heard of Niirnberg, 
a town that is famous for its marvelous 
toys and its speaking dolls, its toothsome 
Lebkuchen (those delicious spiced honey 
cakes, which find their way beneath 
American Christmas trees), its art metal 
works, its stained glass, and its carved 
furniture? The picturesque old town is 
still surrounded by ancient walls and 
moats and watchtowers. When you get 
into the interesting city you find an old, 
old castle in the very center of it, with 
gabled houses all around it. 

Niirnberg was the home of the cele- 


Oberammergau and Other Towns 189 

brated painter, Albrecht Diirer, and of 
Hans Sachs, the Meistersinger. People 
who have visited Nurnberg consider it one 
of the most picturesque towns in the 
world. 

The oldest city in Bavaria is Augsburg, 
which was built by the Romans about 
15 b. c. During the fifteenth and six¬ 
teenth centuries it was a thriving city, hav¬ 
ing been made famous by its rich mer¬ 
chant princes, the Fuggers and the Wel- 
sers, who surrounded themselves with all 
the luxuries of kings, and whose daugh¬ 
ters married into royal families. 

All the Bavarian cities, big and small, 
are full of the romance of past ages; and 
all of them, from the Main to the Danube, 
are surrounded by well-cared-for forests 
and fields and gardens. There is an air of 
thrift, of orderliness, and of friendliness 
throughout the “ Bayernland,” as its in¬ 
habitants affectionately call it, that causes 
the traveler to linger and to feel at home. 


CHAPTER XIV 


WINGS 

When a girl reached the age of fifteen 
or sixteen years and had completed the 
High School course, she was entitled to 
wear dresses that came down to her 
ankles, or even lower. To show more of 
her anatomy than an ankle would have 
been most improper. 

We were “ Frauleins ” now. People 
began to accost us with Sie, and no longer 
with the familiar Du. In Germany there 
is a vast difference between the pronouns 
Du and Sie. Du is the familiar, endear¬ 
ing term, used between members of the 
family, or between intimate friends, while 
strangers are addressed with the more 
formal Sie. Kings and other royal per¬ 
sonages had to be addressed in the third 

140 


141 


Wings 

person only. Great stress had been laid 
in school on the proper use of the pronoun 
in the second person, and we had been 
thoroughly drilled in the correct method 
of addressing our superiors. 

One had to be very particular, also, in 
addressing envelopes. By no means must 
we omit to introduce the name of the 
addressee by “ Well-born ” or “ High- 
well-born,” according to his rank. Nobil¬ 
ity had to be addressed with “ His Gra¬ 
ciousness ” or “ Excellency ” or “ Emi¬ 
nence.” All these formulas we had to 
practise in school. But I rather think that 
some of that etiquette has since become 
obsolete. 

Aside from a few private finishing 
schools and the Conservatory of Music, 
there was really no institution that could 
offer an academic education to girls who 
had graduated from High School. Col¬ 
leges and universities were not accessible 
to girls; they were supposed to become 


142 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

Hausfraus in time, and were expected to 
excel in domestic accomplishments. It 
was thus the custom, in the well-to-do 
families, to exchange daughters who had 
finished their course at school, that they 
might learn, under the instruction of cooks 
and butlers with whom they were not 
acquainted, how to become efficient in the 
various culinary arts and table functions, 
even though they never expected to do the 
manual work themselves. 

Since there was little opportunity for 
office work in those days, a girl would have 
to learn dressmaking or millinery, or per¬ 
haps become a saleslady, unless she chose 
teaching as a profession. Otherwise she 
stayed at home and waited for some 
Prince Charming to woo her. 

The girl of the present age would smile 
to see a young Bavarian daughter of good 
family chaperoned to a dance, either by 
the whole family or by some accommodat¬ 
ing aunts and uncles, and not allowed to 


Wings 143 

dance with any young man unless he had 
been formally introduced to all the rela¬ 
tives present. The young man, if ap¬ 
proved of, was then permitted to make a 
formal call upon the daughter, but only 
in presence of the family. Such a thing 
as an unchaperoned appointment with a 
young man was unheard of among the 
better classes. And a man was not sup¬ 
posed to propose to the lady of his choice 
without first asking her parents or guard¬ 
ians for her hand. Nevertheless, the 
German girl had far more freedom than 
her French sister, who was not supposed 
to go out on the street unchaperoned, even 
in the daytime, and who often had to 
marry the man of her parents’ choice, even 
though she had never met him. 

I had decided to become a teacher’s 
apprentice and, in spare hours, to study 
art with Father. For a year I was under 
the guidance of a very friendly and ca¬ 
pable teacher, who was then teaching the 


144 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

third grade. She quite often left me in 
full charge of the fifty lively girls, on 
whom it was not easy to impress the su¬ 
periority of nty sixteen years. But I en¬ 
joyed my new responsibilities and I fully 
intended to join the ranks of the public- 
school teachers. On Saturdays I coached 
backward pupils and thus earned my first 
pocket money, being paid the equivalent 
of ten cents an hour. 

But underneath it all I was restless. I 
felt the urge to expand my wings and to 
travel to the outside world. I read books 
on travel far into the night, when I was 
supposed to be asleep, or while my girl 
friends attended the formal balls at the 
Royal Odeon, which had no lure for me. 

One day I met my beloved ex-teacher, 
Fraulein Rieger, on my way home. 

“ Bertha,” she said hurriedly, “ how 
would you like to go to France? ” 

“Oh, it would be wonderful!” I ex¬ 
claimed most eagerly. “ When? ” 



Photograph by Keystone 
























Wings 145 

“ One of the best private schools in 
France, located in Sedan, wants a teacher 
of German. For her services she will re¬ 
ceive free tuition and board. Do you wish 
to consider it? ” 

“ Oh, most certainly! ” I nearly hugged 
her for joy over the prospect of going 
away. I hastened home as fast as my feet 
could carry me, and burst into the house 
with the announcement: “ Hurrah! I am 
going to France! ” 

“ Oh, ho! Not so fast/’ my astonished 
parents said. 

“ Besides,” Father explained, “ there 
are political clouds hovering over the 
French horizon now, and I would deem it 
risky to send my young daughter there at 
such a time.” 

But I was eager to grasp this chance to 
see the outside world, and I hoped very 
much that my father might yet change his 
mind. Meanwhile, I went to the address 
given to me by Fraulein Rieger, to learn 


146 When 1 Was a Girl in Bavaria 

the particulars of the position. They 
seemed most attractive. Then I saw sev¬ 
eral of my friends, who promised to pre¬ 
vail on my parents to give their consent. 

It was August when the prospect of 
going to France had been held out to me. 
It was December before I finally gained 
the parental consent which I had been 
seeking for four months. For fear that 
my parents might yet change their minds, 
I made hasty preparations for my de¬ 
parture. I would not even wait for the 
approaching Christmas holidays, lest 
something might yet prevent my going to 
the land of my dreams, which beckoned so 
alluringly on the western horizon. 

It was early on a cold December morn¬ 
ing in 1869, when the hard snow creaked 
under one’s feet, when one’s breath nearly 
froze, and when the gray dawn, or the 
parting tears, made familiar objects seem 
indistinct, that the whole family, as well 
as cousins, friends, and neighbors, sur- 


Wings 147 

rounded me on the platform of the rail¬ 
road depot, and awaited the final “ Fer- 
tig! ” of the conductor who stood at the 
side of the puffing train. 

If kodaks had been in use then, no doubt 
there might still exist an amusing picture 
of the departing traveler, such as no 
great-grandmother of the present time 
would acknowledge. It would show a 
long, bulging dress of a plaid pattern, 
made longer by a broad black border, over 
which would be a long black circular cape, 
also lengthened by a black angora trim¬ 
ming with long fringe, a little tight-fitting 
black silk bonnet, tied under the chin with 
broad black ribbons, and over it a long 
blue, rather thick veil hanging down to my 
knees. A large tapestry bag held all my 
earthly belongings. 

Before we parted, Mother cautioned me 
never to lift my veil w^hile on the train, 
except when eating. I followed her com¬ 
mand to the letter, though I did not un- 


148 When I Was a Girl in Bavaria 

derstand her reasons, and even managed 
to nibble my lunch underneath the veil. 
Finally, she counseled: 

“ Never do or say a thing which you 
would not want to write to your mother. 
And never, under any circumstances, 
accept a favor from a strange gentleman.” 

Throughout all my agitated life in 
France, these parting words were my 
guidance in many a dilemma, and helped 
me through many a critical situation. I 
thank my mother yet for her good advice. 

On my return, after three eventful 
years in France, nearly all my time was 
occupied in giving French lessons to 
young and old, for the study of French 
had become very much in vogue. I formed 
many lifelong ties among my pupils of all 
ages, and together with what little time I 
had to give to painting and sketching, I 
spent three very profitable years in my 
native city. 

One summer morning in 1875, my loved 


149 


Wings 

ones again bade me good-bye at the Mu¬ 
nich Depot. But this time I was a newly- 
made citizen of the United States of 
America, and the bride of one of Amer¬ 
ica’s most beloved educators. 

Two more of my early girlhood dreams 
were soon realized. I crossed the ocean, 
and I saw Niagara Falls, that wonderful 
spectacle of Nature, whose picture had 
once aroused my schoolgirl fancy. 


y 


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